OLLEGE STUDY 
&. COLLEGE LIFE 



BERNARD C. EWER 



LIBRARY OF EDUCATIONAL MI 




Class _LBai:2.i 

Book 1^ 

CopightN"- — 



CDEXRIGHT DKPOSm 



COLLEGE STUDY 
& COLLEGE LIFE 



BY 



BERNARD C. IjWER 

PROFESSOR OF PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION 
POMONA COLLEGE 




BOSTON: RICHARD G. BADGER 

TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED 



COPTRIGHTED, 1917, BY RiCHARD G. BaDGER 



All Rights Reserved 






HQV -1 1317 



Made in the United States of America 



The Gorham Press, Boston, U.S.A. 



©Gl.A47e857 tij.XS^ 



PREFACE 

The following pages have been written for the purpose 
of helping students to take a thoughtful view of college 
practices and college problems. Their contents consists 
mainly of facts and discussions which I have been accus- 
tomed to present to freshmen with regard to the aims 
and methods of college study and the various features of 
college life. It is manifestly desirable that newcomers 
to the campus should gain an intelligent appreciation of 
their educational situation^ and if my experience is typical 
they are almost uniformly grateful for assistance in this 
respect. The well thumbed condition of those volumes in 
the college library which deal intimately with student 
interests testifies to the utility of such efforts, and con- 
stitutes encouragement to add another volume to those 
which appear to be so acceptable. 

In view of the fact that many colleges are making use 
of such literature in the first year work of their depart- 
ments of English, and even in special courses of instruc- 
tion for freshmen, I have endeavored to facilitate this 
practice by presenting subjects somewhat in textbook form. 
In dealing with controversial questions such as occasionally 
produce tension in the college atmosphere I have tried 
not only to register my own opinion, but to present both 
sides of the controversy fairly. 

The general aim of the college seems to me to be that 
of developing intellectual power, wise leadership, a habit 
of cooperation with associates and a spirit of friendliness 
toward all. I hope that these chapters may help in the 
realization of this aim. 

It is a pleasure to add that the preparation of them has 
been greatly facilitated by my wife's interest and assist- 
ance. 

Bernard C. Ewer. 

Claremont, California, 
September 1, 1917. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface 3 

CHAPTER 

I. The College Problem 9 

Is College Education Profitable, 9 — Certain Defects in 
Student Life, 11— The Study of the College Situation, 13. 

II. The Early American College ...... 17 

Colonial College Foundations, 17 — Social Conditions, 20 — 
The Curriculum, 23. 

III. The Development of Higher Education . . .29 
Expansion, 29 — The Development of the Curriculum, 32 — 
Social Development, 35. 

IV. Special Developments 40 

The Small College, W—The State University, 42 — Higher 
Education for Women, 46. 

V. The Purpose of the College ...... 49 

The Meaning of Education, 49 — College Education, 51 — 
Cultural and Practical Education, 53. 

VI. The College Curriculum 58 

Fields of Study, 58 — Science and Appreciation, 60 — 
Science in the Curriculum, 62 — Appreciative Studies in 

the Curriculum, 65. 

VII. The Individual Plan of Study 70 

Required Studies, 70 — The Elective System, 72 — Breadth 
and Specialization, 76. 

VIII. General Conditions of Study 80 

Amount, 80 — Regularity, 84 — Freedom, 87. 

5 



6 CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

IX. Elementary Factors of Study 91 

Interest, 91 — Attention, 93 — Memory, 96. 

X. Thought Factors of Study ...... 99 

Advanced Study Involves Thinking, 99 — Purposiveness, 
101 — Analysis and Note Taking, 103 — Supplementary 
Thinking, 107. 

XI. Scholarship 110 

Are College Students Unscholarly? 110 — The Motives of 
Scholarship, 112 — Grades, 115. 

XII. Student Honesty 121 

Prevalent Conditions, 121 — The Honor System, 123— 
Practical Considerations, 127. 

XIII. Health 131 

Fundamental Importance of Health, the Health Prob- 
lem, 131 — Practical Principles, 134 — Special Needs in 
Student Life, 136. 

XIV. College Life 141 

Development, 141 — Educational Value, 142 — Excess, The 
Problem of Regulation, 146. 

XV. College Spirit 149 

What Is ''College Spirit"? 14>9— Needed Forms of College 
Spirit, 151 — Custom and Conformity, 154 — Hazing, Class 
Antagonisms, 156. 

XVI. Student Government 161 

The Development of the Problem, 161 — Training for 
Democracy, 163 — Principles of Student Governmient, 
165 — Self -Government and Freedom, 169. 

XVII. Intercollegiate Athletics 170 

Origin and Development, The Problem, 170 — The Value 

of intercollegiate Athletics, Benefits and Evils, 172 — 
Regulation, 179 — Professionalism, 183. 

XVIII. Fraternities and Sororities 187 

Origin and Development, 187 — The Value of the Fra- 
ternity, 190 — Fraternity Evils, 192 — Regulation, 195. 



CONTENTS 7 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. College Religion 199 

The Religious Characters of the College, 199 — College 
Chapel, 901— The True Faith, 204. 

Appendix A. The Offer of the College, Hyde, The Col- 
lege Man and the College Woman 209 

Appendix B. Choosing a Vocation 210 

Appendix C. Two Vocational Aims for College Students 212 

Appendix D. General Reading 215 

Appendix E. From a Card of Advice to Students in the 

Library of Brown University 221 

Appendix F. Constitution of the Student Council of 

X College 223 

Appendix G. The Creed of a College Class, Hyde, The 

College Man and the College Woman .... 226 



/ 



COLLEGE STUDY AND 
COLLEGE LIFE 



CHAPTER I 



THE COLLEGE PROBLEM 



Is College Education Profitable? 

In the autumn of every year an enthusiastic army of 
young men and young women enter American colleges. 
Averaging nineteen years of age, graduates of public high 
schools and private academies, they are physically and 
mentally on the threshold of manhood and womanhood. 
With respect to intelligence, capability and promise of 
success they are among the best youth of the country — 
select candidates for "higher education." 

They enter an institution of dignified lineage and lengthy 
history, an organization of great and growing complexity, 
a place of much learning, diversified study, and highly 
specialized social arrangements. Breathing its peculiar in- 
tellectual and social atmosphere they pass through the 
freshman year, becoming sophomores, juniors, seniors, and 
at last graduates, proud of their Alma Mater. Eventually 
they go forth into society with the stamp of the college 
upon them; to a greater or less extent they are personifi- 
cations of its character. In some measure their success 
or failure is determined by their college course. From 
the happenings, the tasks, the things done or not done 
during these four years results their worthfulness or 
worthlessness in society. Next to the home the school — 
and this means for the young people whom we are consicj- 

9 



10 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

ing the college — is the most important formative institu- 
tion in their lives. Is its influence upon them good or 
bad? 

On the one hand we note the enthusiasm of the students 
themselves, the tremendous increase of attendance, and the 
sacrifice which thousands of parents are making for their 
children. All this is the expression of faith that collegiate 
education is worth while. We note also the assurance of 
college authorities, presidents, deans and professors, that 
the college years are advantageous in the highest degree. 
We learn that the college-educated two or three per cent 
of the population hold nearly half of the most important 
positions of trust. And finally we hear the testimony of 
men, some or them men of distinction, who have been com- 
pelled to educate themselves without college experience, 
that they have felt the lack of this constantly throughout 
their lives. ^ 

On the other hand we see considerable foolishness^ 
snobbery, and general futility of behavior among college 
students. We find them dallying with subjects of study 
which have little direct relation to life, and dallying hardly 
less with subjects which have much. We hear an ever 
increasing volume of criticism, both from within and from 
without the college walls. It is said that a college course 
fails to develop good mental and moral habits, while it 
engenders many bad ones; that it consists of four years 
of sloth and dissipation, cheerfully masked by genial com- 
radeship and good manners; that it sends out its youth 
into a work-a-day world untrained for any serious occupa- 
tion. More pointedly we are told that college graduates 
cannot spell, cannot keep appointments, cannot sacrifice 
the pleasure of attending a football game for the duty 
of attending to business, and so on. When we point to 
the preeminence of college men in important positions, 
the reply is that the natural ability of these few would 
have placed them there in any case; and this assertion is 

^ One of the most influential leaders of the educational and 
religious life of the nation says that he has never been able to 
overcome a feeling of embarrassment in not having had a college 
education. 



THE COLLEGE PROBLEM 11 

supported by the long list of names of great men, from 
Columbus and Michelangelo to Herbert Spencer and Abra- 
ham Lincoln, who have illuminated history without having 
attended a university. Our higher educational institutions, 
it is said, suppress the individuality of the student; they 
"iron out" his promising excrescences of ability, and make 
him conform monotonously to traditional thought and es- 
tablished social types. 

Such accusations are no doubt overdrawn. The good 
and the bad in human institutions are so mixed that it 
is easy to exaggerate the bad until it seems to cast a 
shadow over the whole. The effect of college training is 
mostly good; the defects are as a rule not profound, cer- 
tainly not fatal. A large majority of college graduates 
go through life better in health, morals, citizenship, and 
efficiency than they would have done without those four 
years of higher education. 

Nevertheless those who continue to hold this faith that 
a college education is well worth while must acknowledge 
that the criticism, however exaggerated, is not wholly un- 
true. Only a blind loyalty can ignore the fact that many 
students show no serious purpose, that some form bad 
habits, and that there are college graduates who are pitiable 
failures in life. Others are saved from failure only by 
inherited wealth, friendly sinecures, and disguised charity 
of various forms. Testimony is abundant that the process 
of adjustment to life after leaving college is difficult, often 
painful. Why is this so.^* 

Certain Defects in Student Life 

The first to be mentioned, possibly the fundamental one, 
is the lack of a serious, self-educative purpose. Too often 
the student has no clear conception of why he is spend- 
ing four years of his most valuable youth in college. Such 
a purpose is not to be understood as a mere expectation 
of becoming a lawyer or merchant after graduation; this 
vague idea may amount to nothing whatever. It means 
a deliberate desire to do something useful among one's fel- 
low men, and to prepare for it studiously, so that the col- 
lege course is energized by this larger interest of life. 



n COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

From the outset the student should face this problem. 
Though it is not desirable that every incoming freshman 
should have decided upon his life work, it is well that he 
should be thinking about the matter. Generally speaking, 
he should decide by the time he reaches junior standing 
what bent he will follow, and should regard his later 
college years as a broad educational preparation for this. 
When, as recently happened, in a prominent college, half 
the graduating class, men from twenty-one to twenty-five 
years of age, do not know what their vocations are to be, 
critics are justified in saying that the college does not 
square with life, and that its education is a waste of time.^ 
The second defect is the lack of skillful study method, 
the lack of efficiency in the learning process. We hear 
much about the small amount of study in college, but the 
real defect is one of quality rather than quantity. What 
is needed is not additional hours of "grinding," so much 
as an intelligent method of attacking and analyzing a 
study problem, of obtaining and weighing evidence, of 
comparing opinions and reaching a conclusion. The col- 
lege student ordinarily needs to train himself in attention, 
in remembering and forgetting, in thinking and reasoning. 
This training implies less day dreaming in class and out, 
less wasting of time with a book when the mind is pre- 
occupied with a football or a girl, less accumulation of 
scrappy, unread notes, more regular hours, a more punc- 
tilious accuracy of speech. A contemporary critic of college 
affairs emphasizes the need in American life of "problem- 
solvers," i.e., of me;i who can deal skilfully with our varied 
economic, political, and moral problems, men who can in- 
vestigate the perplexities of banking, railroad manage- 
ment, constitutional law, journalism, church efficiency, and 

2 "The fundamental fault of our whole educational system is 
that we try to train to superficial scholarship and conventional 
culture those who should be learning to do their share of the 
world's work." J. McKeen Cattell. 

"To take a young man aM^ay from work, say at eighteen years 
of age, and keep him from useful labor, in the name of educa- 
tion, for four years, will some day be regarded as a most absurd 
proposition. Isolation from the world in order to prepare for the 
world's work is folly." Elbert Hubbard. 



THE COLLEGE PROBLEM 13 

the like. For such problem-solving a correct method of 
study is absolutely requisite.^ 

In the third 23lace the student gives too much time and 
attention to the distracting interests of college life, and 
more especially to its play. No doubt play is as vital 
an interest as is work, but a state of affairs has come 
to pass such that college play not only interferes with 
college work, but is taken so seriously that the proper 
spirit of play is lost, and it tends to become vicious. 
There is in student life an extensive and chaotic confusion 
of athletic and social performances which infringes from 
all sides uj5on the time, and still more upon the attention 
and interest of the student body.* Many a college has 
scores of groups of one sort or another, some for intellec- 
tual or artistic purposes, others purely social and recrea- 
tional. A single student may be a member of a dozen 
or more. The result of this excessive organization is 
a nervous, superficial, and often frivolous habit of life 
that produces little real happiness and no real power. 
Many persons regard the rational control of "college life" 
as the great central problem of college reform. 

The Study of the College Situation 

Most freshmen are but vaguely informed about the 
aims and ideals of the college. Its life is so different 
from previous school life, even from the boarding school 
life which mimics it, that many do not understand the 
institution or their own relation to it. Sent hither by 
parents, attracted by spectacular athletics, or carried in 
by the sheer momentum of our educational system, they 
rarely face the new conditions and opportunities with ma- 
ture intelligence. 

During the opening weeks of the year the attitude of 
the newcomer is a kind of confused docility, which gradu- 

^ Bird's-eye, Individual Training in Our College, Chap. XXXIV. 

* "The side-shows are so numerous, so diverting — so important, 
if you will — that they have swallowed up the circus, and those 
who perform in the main tent must often whistle for their audi- 
ences, discouraged and humiliated." Woodrow Wilson, What Is 
a College For? Scrihner's Magazine, Nov., 1909. 



14 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

ally gives way to self assurance and perhaps bumptious- 
ness. He gains the feeling of being at home in college, 
and this is among the most important acquisitions of the 
year. As time passes, his center of gravity may prove to 
be intellectual, so that college means to him primarily his 
desk and his books, the library, the class room and the 
laboratory; or it may be found in his social self, as he 
inhabits the fraternity house and athletic field, and be- 
comes known for physical prowess and good fellowship. 
But in any case he quickly becomes acquainted with col- 
lege life. This acquaintance, however, is not so much an 
intelligent comprehension, as it is a complex practical 
attitude toward his environment — a general manner of be- 
havior. He picks it up by imitation of older students, 
gathers it in conversation with his friends, collects a few 
details from a talk by the president or dean, and gleans a 
good deal from the college newspaper. College customs 
seem to "soak in" rather than to impress themselves upon 
the intelligence. Loyalty, enthusiasm, "swagger," this 
burst of approval and that jab of criticism, are imitative 
and infectious. Often he does things not because he 
knows them to be best — he may even know that they are 
not best — but because he feels the force of custom around 
him. If a particular course of study has the reputation of 
being easy he proceeds to take it easily, without pausing 
to consider its possible advantages. If the college is tra- 
ditionally given to foolish pranks he lends his energy to 
these. On the other hand he develops the soundest quali- 
ties of human character, courage, helpfulness, ability for 
organization, under the same social stimulus. So in the 
course of the year he possesses himself of a mixture of 
truth and error about his college and his membership in 
it. Practically he becomes wise in such matters of college 
interest as sports and social relationships, but as a rule 
he remains ignorant of what it is all for. He does not 
understand the function of the college, and his own re- 
flective ideals develop slowly. When one asks him about 
the significance of the college for American life, or its 
relation to the surrounding community, or its preparation 
for citizenship, one too frequently finds that he has not 



THE COLLEGE PROBLEM 15 

thought much on these subjects. 

Yet it is profoundly true that every college student is 
part of a great historical movement. When he enters col- 
lege he necessarily launches into a vast current of human 
thought and feeling and effort which bears him along, 
but to which he also contributes the force of his own 
personality. His studies, his recreations, in fact all the 
intellectual and social features of college life come to him 
from the past; and the future direction of the current 
depends in some slight degree upon his reaction to these 
conditions. He is a real factor in the developing educa- 
tional system of the country, and in consequence a factor 
in the development of our national life. 

Is it not desirable, therefore, that college men and 
women should make a serious study of the history, methods 
and practices, the purposes and ideals of higher education.? 
Ought they not to acquire, at the beginning of the college 
course, an intelligent view of the institution to which they 
belong.'' This may be done in various ways: by special 
instruction, by general reading, by including appropriate 
material in regular courses, especially the first year Eng- 
lish. But in one way or another it would seem that stu- 
dents might make with much profit to themselves, a schol- 
arly acquaintance with the college. They are approaching 
manhood and womanhood in years and mental power; 
correspondingly it appears fitting that they should gain a 
mature appreciation of their educational environment. The 
result would surely be less floundering and waste of time, 
less folly and futility, a more determined purpose in col- 
lege and in subsequent life. 

It is not to be expected, of course, that the defects of 
contemporary college life can be wholly eradicated by the 
simple device of instruction. Wise counsel often slides 
off the mind without leaving any impression, and here as 
elsewhere study discipline may be evaded. Presumably 
intelligent students exhibit deafness to advice and warn- 
ing, and blindness to the consequences of shirking — ap- 
parently anxious only to get along with a minimum of 
work and to have a good time. The wayward will is 
sometimes guided only by hard experience, and not always 



16 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

by that. But most students, I think, desire to do the 
right thing if it is made clear. Accordingly it is reason- 
able to expect that the general effect of acquiring clear 
ideas about college life will be more earnestness, less 
childishness, a better study plan and method, and a 
greater willingness to cooperate in realizing the ideal of 
the college as a higher educational institution. 



CHAPTER II 

THE EARLY AMERICAN COLLEGE 

Colonial College Foundations 

In 1636^ only a few years after the settlement of Bos- 
ton^ the General Court or legislature of the "Bay Colony" 
of Massachusetts appropriated four hundred pounds for 
the establishment of a "Schoole or Colledge."^ The site 
chosen was at Newtowne, subsequently called Cambridge 
after the English seat of learning. Two years later John 
Harvard^ a local clergyman^ bequeathed his library and 
several hundred pounds in mone}^ to the infant institution, 
and in recognition of his generosity the college took his 
name. 

For over half a century Harvard College remained the 
only institution of the kind in the country. In 1693 the 
College of William and Mary w^as established at Williams- 
burg, Virginia; and in 1701 in the colony of Connecticut 
a "Collegiate School," which after several years of troubled 
migration from one town to another was located at New 
Haven, and was named after one of its benefactors, Eli 
Yale. In many respects Yale was an offshoot of Harvard, 
founded and conducted largely by Harvard graduates, and 
administered in much the same way as the parent college. 
Similarly Princeton, founded in 1746 as the College of 
New Jersey, was patterned after Yale. Several other col- 

^ The term "college" came originally from Roman law, in which 
it signified a group of individuals having a common purpose and 
some kind of corporate standing. Such collegia were especially 
of religious, political and industrial character. This generic 
meaning of the term is found in the "College of Cardinals" and 
"Electoral College" of to-day. In the middle ages the name was 
applied to church schools, and thus its usage became primarily 
educational. For a detailed history of the term see the Cyclo- 
pedia of Education, art. "College." 

17 



18 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

leges were born before the Revolutionary War — King's 
College (now Columbia), the College of Pennsylvania, 
Rhode Island College (Brown), the College of New Hamp- 
shire (Dartmouth), and Queen's College (Rutgers). Thus 
there were in all nine pre-revolutionary colleges. 

The colonies, we should bear in mind, were for a long 
time hardly more than spots of cultivation in a wilderness 
which was held by Indians. The population was small, 
travel was exceedingly difficult, industries were undevel- 
oped, poverty was often harsh, and there were scarcely 
any common schools. Life was dominated by religious 
zeal and characterized by moral severity, conditions which 
of course reflected themselves in the colleges. 

The original purpose of the college foundations was 
first and foremost the training of ministers. Many of the 
early colonists were educated men, graduates of Oxford 
and Cambridge, men full of idealism for their home in 
the new world and inclined to set supreme value upon a 
properly educated ministry. For a century or more an 
astonishly large percentage of college graduates — running 
in some periods as high as seventy or eighty — became 
clergymen and missionaries. More broadly, the purpose 
of the early college was the education of a moral and re- 
ligious citizenship. "Let every student," so runs one of 
the first Rules and Precepts of Harvard, "be plainly in- 
structed, and earnestly pressed to consider well, the maine 
end of his life and studies is, TO KNOW GOD AND 
JESUS CHRIST WHICH IS ETERNAL LIFE, Joh. 
xvii. 3, and therefore to lay Christ in the bottome, as the 
only foundation of all sound knowledge and learning."^ 
Similarly the first advertisement of King's College says 
that "The chief Thing that is aimed at in this College is, 
to teach and engage the Children to know God in Jesus 
Christ, and to love and serve him, in all Sobriety, Godliness, 
and Righteousness of Life, with a perfect Heart, and a 
rvilling Mind; and to train them up in all virtuous Habits, 
and all such useful Knowledge as may render them credi- 
table to their Families and Friends, Ornaments to their 

=*For a complete statement of these Rules and Precepts see 
Birdseye, Individual Training in our Colleges, pp. 19, 20. 



THE EARLY AMERICAN COLLEGE 19 

Country and useful to the public Weal in their Genera- 
tions."^ 

In fulfilment of this purpose the colleges were conducted 
as "theological boarding schools." Their presidents and 
many of their teachers were clergymen, their curriculum 
was saturated with theological ideas and theological argu- 
ment^ their daily life was punctuated with religious exer- 
cises. The later foundations, particularly the College of 
Pennsylvania, laid more emphasis upon scientific, political 
and industrial study. In other words the purpose of the 
college broadened as the life of the colonies became more 
complex, and educational needs other than those of religion 
came more clearly into the foreground. In a general way, 
however, the religious purpose of higher education re- 
mained in force. 

The little seats of learning labored in serious poverty. 
Their income was pitifully meager and uncertain, books 
were scarce, and equipment scanty. There were no labora- 
tories. The "valuable philosophical apparatus" of Yale, 
consisted of surveying instruments, a telescope, a micro- 
scope, and a barometer; these constituted its original 
facilities for the pursuit of natural science.^ Money was 
collected from faithful friends in this country and in Eng- 
land for the advancement of religious education in the new 
world; and lotteries, authorised by the colonial govern- 
ments, were an occasional source of revenue until moral 
sentiment put an end to the practice. Tuition fees were 
of course small; indeed the entire expense of a college 
education was less than that of a single year in the college 
of to-day. Money was so scarce that gifts and fees came 
in the form of silverware and country produce. Every 
fact of the financial history of the early colleges spells 
sacrifice.^ 

^ Thwing, History of Higher Education in America, p. 116. 

* Thwing, op. cit., p. 77. 

^ "Even the presidents had to take 'country pay.' Parents set- 
tled for tuition in produce and cattle, such as 'a barrel of pork,' 
'a old cow,' 'turkey henes,' 'two wether goatts,' 'a bush, of par- 
snapes,' 'a ferkinge of butter,' 'a red ox,' 'appelles,' 'a ferkinge 
of soap,' 'rose watter,' 'three pecks of peasse,' 'beaffe,' 'fouer 
shotes from the farm,' 'tobacko,' etc. Such gifts made in country 



20 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

Social Conditions 

The social arrangements of these colleges were distinctly 
of the boarding school type. The faculty and students — 
forty or fifty boys and a few teachers living constantly 
in close association — might almost be regarded as a large 
family. The youngsters, entering commonly between the 
ages of twelve and fifteen, needed a parental supervision 
from their elders, and certainly obtained it. Discipline 
was of the strictest sort. Each class was under the author- 
ity of a particular tutor who not only taught the boys 
whatever they studied, but resided in the dormitory with 
them and ate at the same table. Clothing, spending money, 
hours of study and play, all were subjects of minute 
regulation, with corresponding penalties for breaking rules. 
An elaborate system of freshman service imposed obliga- 
tion to run errands and do other small offices for members 
of upper classes as well as for the faculty. Of course this 
practice lent itself to petty tyranny and persecution, of 
which "hazing" is a direct descendant. Altogether the lot 
of the freshman must have been less happy than it is 
to-day. Upperclassmen were also under strict regulation 
with regard to conduct, though of course less so than 
freshmen. It hardly need be added, however, that the 
strictness of the regime did not prevent disorder. Board- 
ing school rules have always been regarded as existing 
partly in order to be broken, and frontier manners are 
boisterous. Some of the outbreaks, as that of 1807 at 
Harvard and the "Bread and Butter Rebellion" of 1828 
at Yale, are historic.^ 

Among the "Ancient Customs of Harvard College" were 
the following: 

"No Freshman shall wear his hat in the College yard, 
unless it rains, hails or snows, provided he be on foot, and 
have not both hands full. 

produce or in animals were available at the commons, or were 
turned over to the members of the faculty as part pay. This was 
to be expected when barter was the usual form of exchange. 
Sometimes, however, there were complaints that a little more cash 
and a httle less of produce would be acceptable." Birdseye, 
Individual Training in Onr Colleges, p. 52. 

' Sheldon, Student Life and Customs, pp. 106 ff. 



THE EARLY AMERICAN COLLEGE 21 

"No Undergraduate shall wear his hat in the College 
yard when any of the Governors of the College are there; 
and no Bachelor shall wear his hat when the President is 
there. 

"All the Undergraduates shall treat those in the Govern- 
ment of the College with respect and deference; particu- 
larly they shall not be seated without leave in their pres- 
ence; they shall be uncovered when they speak to them 
or are spoken to by them. 

"All Freshmen (except those employed by the Immediate 
Government of the College) shall be obliged to go on any 
errand (except such as shall be judged improper by some 
one in the Government of the College) for any of his 
Seniors^ Graduates or Undergraduates, at any time, except 
in studying hours, or after nine o'clock in the evening. 

"When any person knocks at a Freshman's door, except 
in studying time, he shall immediately open the door with- 
out inquiring who is there. 

"No scholar shall call up or down, to or from, any 
chamber in the College. 

"No scholar shall play football or any other game in 
the College yard, or throw anything across the yard. 

"The Freshmen shall furnish the batts, balls and foot- 
balls for the use of the students, to be kept at the But- 
tery." 

The statement concludes with a provision that "The 
Sophomores shall publish these Customs to the Freshmen 
in the Chapel, whenever ordered by any in the Government 
of the College; at which time the Freshmen are enjoined 
to keep their places in their seats, and attend with decency 
to the reading." '^ 

An especially interesting chapter might be written con- 
cerning the commons^ with its minute rules of conduct, 
vicissitudes of fare, its "dinner messes" and "supper 
messes," its "sizings of bread," "pyes," "cues of beer," 
and the tendency of youth at meals to introduce gleeful 
irregularities of behavior. How healthy appetites must 
have rebelled at the rule prohibiting extra food and drink 
because "young scholars, to the dishonor of God, hindrance 

' Thwing, op. cit., pp. 42, 43. 



22 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

of their studies and damage of their friends' estate, incon- 
siderately and intemperately are ready to abuse their lib- 
erty of sizing besides their commons" ! College boarding 
halls have frequently been the scene of disturbances verg- 
ing on riot and revolution, and the record is occasionally 
tinged with the humor of such performances. No feature 
of college life, however, has been more significant than the 
common meal; its unifying power is almost sacramental. 

Play was not a prominent feature of college life. "Ath- 
letics" in the modern meaning of the term did not exist, 
and physical sports were more or less irregular and un- 
systematic. Indeed the time for such diversion was brief, 
since study hours were rigidly fixed and the youngsters 
had liberty only after meals. Many innocent games were 
strictly forbidden on account of their evil associations. 
Backgammon and tenpins, as well as cards and dice, were 
long under the ban. The physical condition of students 
sometimes suffered from excessive study and insufficient 
exercise, while now and then poor food contributed to the 
undermining of health. Vacations had not reached their 
present well defined status. They were at first allowances 
of time to go home for clothing. Later there were periods 
of a few weeks in summer, winter and spring. A winter 
vacation for the purpose of allowing students to earn 
money by teaching in rural schools was a fixed feature 
of the college year for more than half the last century. 
In general the importance of play and recreation failed 
to receive due recognition, though the play instincts of 
youth naturally demanded expression, and there is abun- 
dant evidence that fun-loving human nature found outlets 
for its energy. 

Strict disciplinary ideas prevailed. The punishable 
offences were a strange combination of religious impiety, 
moral wrong doing, and mere infraction of social custom. 
Profanity, lying, and carrying a cane into chapel were all 
regarded as more or less sinful. Punishment took the 
form of flogging, fines, and extra lessons. The president 
and fellows of Harvard were authorized by the General 
Court in 1656 "to punish all misdemeanors of the youth in 
their society, either by fine or whipping in the Hall openly. 



THE EARLY AMERICAN COLLEGE 23 

as the nature of the offense shall require, not exceeding 
ten shillings or ten stripes for one offense."^ An interest- 
ing bit of history which has descended to us is the account 
of the whipping of a boy for profanity. It took place 
in the library under the supervision of the president, and 
was preceded and followed by prayer. At Columbia it 
was ordained that those who absented themselves from 
religious worship be fined two pence for every offence, and 
one penny for tardiness. Further, "None of the Pupils 
shall fight Cocks, play at Cards, Dice or any unlawful 
game under penalty of being fined not exceeding Five 
shillings for the first offence, and being openly admon- 
ished and confessing their fault for the second, and ex- 
pulsion if contumacious."^ Punishment also took the form 
of lowering the social rank of the offender in the posted 
list of scholars, for differences of birth and parentage 
gave rise to aristocratic precedence in the college. The 
spirit of democratic equality at length put an end to this 
practice. Many features of the social order remained 
until comparatively recent times, but gradually the increas- 
ing age of students and the development of a more liberal 
educational policy lessened the disciplinary stringency. 

The simplicity and rigor of this half academic, half 
domestic life stand in sharp contrast to the complexity 
and comfort of the modern college. It is amusing to think 
of the state of mind of a luxury-loving college undergrad- 
uate of to-day if he were obliged to pass a harsh New 
England winter in the cheerless accommodations of the 
Harvard or Yale or Dartmouth of two centuries ago. Prob- 
ably the experience would be good for him. 

The Curriculum 

"When any schollar is able to read Tully, or such like 
classical Latin author ex tempore, and make and speake 
true Latin in verse and prose, suo (ut aiu7it) Marte, and 
decline perfectly the paradigms of nounes and verbes in 
ye Greek tongue, then may hee bee admitted into ye col- 

^ Birdseye, op. cit,, pp. 7, 8. '" ^''•«-~-— v 

^The American College, March, 1910, p. 511. 



24 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

ledge^ nor shall any claim admission before such qualifica- 
tion." So runs the first of Harvard's original Rules and 
Precepts. For a long time^ indeed, the entrance require- 
ments were very simple — Latin, the rudiments of Greek, 
and arithmetic. Elementary education was undeveloped 
and the lack of preparatory schools threw most of the 
burden of fitting boys for college upon private tuition, 
frequently that of the local clergyman. As the public 
school system grew, more extensive and thorough prepara- 
tion became possible. In general this preliminary study 
was patterned after the college curriculum, particularly its 
classical features. Latin, though perhaps not the ability 
to "make and speake it" with purity of diction, remained 
a sine qua non for admission until recent times. 

Turning to the course of study as it existed two cen- 
turies ago, we find it narrow in comparison with that of the 
modern college. The first college curriculum in America, 
that established at Harvard by President Dunster, reads 
as follows: 

(1) Mondays and Tuesdays: Philosophy, comprising 
logic and physics for the first year, ethics and politics for 
the second year, arithmetic, geometry and astronomy for 
the third year. For each morning, theory; for each after- 
noon, practice in philosophical disputations. 

(2) Wednesdays: Greek for all classes. For the first 
year, etymology and syntax_, with afternoon practice in the 
rules of grammar; for the second year, prosody and dialec- 
tics, with practice in poesy after dinner; for the third year, 
more Greek in theory and practice. 

(3) Thursdays: Theory of Hebrew, Chaldee, and 
Syriac grammar with practice in corresponding Biblical 
texts. 

(4) Fridays: Rhetoric, with English composition and 
declamation. 

(5) Saturdays: Mornings, "Divinity Catecheticall" and 
"Common Places," i.e., scholastic disputations; afternoons, 
history in the winter, nature of plants in the summer.^^ 

This curriculum, it will be noted, covered only three 

years. It was subsequently expanded to four, the succes- 

"* Foster, Administration of the College Curriculum, pp. 12, 13. 



THE EARLY AMERICAN COLLEGE 25 

sive classes being designated as freshmen, sophomores, 
junior and senior sophisters. 

Other colleges as they arose offered much the same 
studies. More than a century after the founding of Har- 
vard v/e find King's College prescribing the classics, mathe- 
matics and philosophy, together with geography, physics, 
agriculture and merchandise, history, and principles of 
law and government. Rhetoric and practice in declamation 
and debate play a considerable part. Hebrew is studied 
by those who intend to become ministers. 

This curriculum was somewhat narrower than it seems, 
for the history and science of the day were meager in 
the extreme, and the philosophy was devoted to theological 
interests. In breadth of information the course was defi- 
cient ; but in point of disciplinary training the value of 
the subjects and method was large. The classical studies 
served to develop literary power, and the emphasis upon 
"disputations" could hardly fail to cultivate argumentative 
skill. This critical and intensive character helped to pro- 
duce many distinguished thinkers and leaders in American 
affairs. It remained substantially unchanged for nearly 
two centuries. 

Examinations were oral, and visitors might participate 
in conducting the ordeal. Graduation exercises consisted 
of dissertations and arguments, mostly upon ethical and 
tlieological subjects, and often couched in Latin. In fact 
Latin was the language of scholarship, of textbooks, of 
class exercises, and of declamation and debate — a fact 
which explains its central importance as an entrance re- 
quirement. A report of the first Commencement of Rhode 
Island College tells us that seven "young Gentlemen com- 
menced Bachelors in the Arts" with a salutary oration in 
Latin, "pronounced with much Spirit." Following this 
came a dispute in English on the subject. "The Amer- 
icans, in their present Circumstances, cannot, consistent 
with good policy, affect to become an independent State." 
There was also an oration on Benevolence, in which the 
speaker shrewdly emphasized the fact that his "infant 
Seminary stands in Need of the salutary Effects of that 
truly Christian Virtue." After a syllogistic dispute on the 



26 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

thesis "Materia cogitare non potest" — the reporter cau- 
tiously remarks that "the principal Arguments on both 
Sides were produced^ toward settling that important Point 
— degrees were conferred, and the Valedictorian "took a 
most affectionate Leave of his Classmates. — The Scene 
was tender — the Subject felt — and the Audience affected." 
Music was interspersed betv/een the disputes and orations, 
and the whole performance occupied an entire day/^ 

In no respect was the character of the early college 
more marked than that of religion. The primary purpose, 
as we have seen, was profoundly religious. College officers, 
trustees, president and faculty, were usually clergymen, 
sometimes of professional distinction, as Increase Mather 
at Harvard and Jonathan Edwards at Yale. Strict re- 
ligious conformity was necessary. President Dunster of 
Harvard, for openly opposing infant baptism, was indicted, 
tried, convicted, and sentenced to a public admonition and 
to give bonds for good behavior.^^ In 1722 President Cutler 
and a tutor were dismissed from Yale because they had 
become Episcopalians.^^ The curriculum was heavily 
charged with theology. In the early days of Harvard 
students met frequently in their tutors' rooms for Bible 
reading, catechetical examination, and prayer. On Sun- 
days there were lengthy sermons, the repetition of which 
constituted a student exercise. A large number of grad- 
uates, youths not yet out of their teens, entered the minis- 
try, and in many cases became famous as the spiritual 
leaders of colonial progress. 

An interesting picture of the life of a college student in 
colonial times is found in the diary of a junior at Yale 
in 1762. Some of its entries are the following: 

"26th. Studied my recitation in Tully de Oratore. 

"27th. Saturday. Attended Coll. Exs. Heard Mr. 
Daggett preach two sermons on the trinity of ye Godhead, 
I John, V, 8. Read some in Milton's Samp. Agon. 

"29- Attended Coll. Exs. Studied Homer almost ye 
whole day. Read a few pages in Tuscul. Disput. Had 

^ Brown Alumni Monthly. 
" Birdseye, op. cit., p. 41. 
»*Pirdseye, op. cit., p. 35, 



THE EARLY AMERICAN COLLEGE 27 

no recns to-day^ our Tutor being out of town. 

"30. Attended prayers. Studied Homer in forenoon. 
Writ argument on our forensick question, wh. was 
WHETHER ADAM KNEW YT ETERNAL DAMNA- 
TION WOULD BE HIS DOOM IF HE EAT THE 
FORBIDDEN FRUIT. > Had no recitation. Afternoon 
worked out a question in Algebra and studied some in 
Septuagint. 

"Friday, 9. Attended Coll. Exs. Studied Homer in fore- 
noon. In the afternoon read in Martin's Philosophy and in 
Wliiston's Ast (Astronomical) Principles of Religion. At 
night Nichols, Hallock, and Brewster were publickly ad- 
monished for having a Dance at Milford, and for their 
general conduct. Bull, for going to Milford without lib- 
erty and for his general conduct, was ordered to depart 
from College and to live under the care of some minister 
at a distance till he should show signs of reformation. 
Hinman, Kellogg, Kingsbury, and Botsford were fined 
2s. 6d. for being at the dance at Milford. 

"21. N.B. — Got through l6th Book of Homer, where 
I shall stop for ye present. Afternoon. In Pope's Homer. 
Spent remainder of ye afternoon in drinking tea and con- 
versation. 

"Evening felt melancholy and dejected on thinking of 
ye difficulties my DADDE must undergo to provide for me 
here at college."^* 

The early American college must not be regarded merely 
as a historical curiosity. It deserves our profound respect. 
In spite of its poverty, its scanty equipment, its religious 
bigotry and the narrowness of its curriculum, it did an 
important educational work, and it sent out graduates who 
took a prominent part in spiritual and secular affairs. 
Not only clergymen, but lawyers, judges, governors, legis- 
lators and presidents, in fact the leaders of political and 
professional life, received their education in these humble 
institutions. The college possessed moral ideals and gave 
moral training. jThough essentially related to to the pe- 
culiar civilizationV^that surrounded it, and not suitable to 
the broader culture of to-day, it nevertheless exhibited 
"Thwing, op. cit., pp. 101, 102. 



28 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

superior efficiency and value. In education the personal 
contact of teacher and pupil is of the first importance. 
This condition was characteristic of the early college. In 
the development of higher education it has been largely 
lost or overlaid by other interests. Hov7 to restore it is a 
profound problem. 



CHAPTER III 

THE DEVELOPMENT OF HIGHER EDUCATION 

Ej:pa7isio7i 

The wonderful development of higher education in our 
national life is so vast a subject that we can only note a 
few of its most important features. First, in point of 
numerical expansion the college kept pace with the rapid 
growth of the nation. While the older colleges increased 
in size and in wealth many new ones appeared both in the 
more populous east and in the sparsely settled west. 
^Yherever civilization extended its frontier there arose 
sooner or later among the settlers a demand for intellectual 
culture, and in response came numerous college and uni- 
versity foundations. To mention only a few of these mile- 
stones of educational progress/ Bowdoin was founded in 
Maine in 1794^ Union in New York in 1795, Alleghany 
in Pennsylvania in 1815, Oberlin in Ohio in 1833, Knox in 
Illinois in 1837, Grinnell in Iowa in 1847, Colorado College 
in 1874, Whitman in Washington in 1883, Pomona in Cali- 
fornia in 1887. In the south likewise, from Maryland to 
Texas, the educational idealism of the people expressed 
itself in college foundations. Most of the new institutions 
were sectarian — illustrations of the historic bond between 
religion and education. A few, like Williams, were unde- 
nominational. In addition came the establishment and re- 
markable development of state universities; every common- 
wealth with the exception of a few in the east instituted 
its own higher education. The middle period of the nine- 
teenth century was especially prolific; the country was 
overspread with hundreds of schools of advanced learning, 
each one an embodiment of rising civilization. 

Not only did the older type of college thus multiply its 

29 



30 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

numbers, but special schools were established for the study 
of law, medicine, theology, engineering, and various other 
professional and technological subjects.^ Some of these 
schools were independent; others were conjoined with col- 
leges of the earlier kind. Thus we observe the develop- 
ment of three types of higher educational institution: the 
college of liberal arts, having a varied curriculum com- 
posed mostly of cultural studies; the professional or tech- 
nological school (or college), offering a definitely vocational 
course of instruction ; and the university, comprising several 
such schools and a college of the first sort.^ 

^ This development began before the opening of the nineteenth 
century. The Medical College of Philadelphia was founded in 
1765, the first law school appeared in Connecticut in 1T84-, Renn- 
selaer Polytechnic Institute began its work in 1835. See Dexter, 
History of Education in the United States, Chs. XVI, XVII. 
More recent are the schools of education, journalism, commerce, 
forestry, which have elevated training for these occupations to 
the level of higher education. 

^ For the history of the term "college" see Ch. II, Note, p. 11. 
The name is now properly applied to several kinds of aclvanced 
school, e.g.. College of Physicians and Surgeons, College of En- 
gineering, Agricultural College, etc. The College of "liberal 
Arts" — the historic name for philosophy, science, language and 
literature — is in some cases designated as College of Arts and 
Sciences, or College of Literature and Science. 

Historically the European "university" comprised four "fac- 
ulties," namely those of liberal arts, law, medicine and theology. 
The universities of Oxford and Cambridge have had a distinctive 
character as groups of residential colleges. The American uni- 
versity has derived its form from both sources. 

The titles of college and university are much abused, however. 
Many institutions which are little more than ill equipped sec- 
ondary schools have assumed them with no more justification 
than the hopes of founders and the complacency of a legislature. 
A definition adopted by the Carnegie Foundation for the Ad- 
vancement of Teaching for its own purposes of standardization 
is as follows: "An institution to be ranked as a college must 
have at least six professors giving their entire time to college 
and university work, a course of four full years in liberal arts 
and sciences, and shall require for admission not less than the 
usual four years of academic or high school preparation, in addi- 
tion to the pre-academic or grammar school studies." The Na- 
tional Association of State Universities specifies for membership: 
that the college of arts and sciences shall require for entrance a 
high school course of four years or its equivalent, and shall give 
two years of general or liberal study, followed by two years of 



DEVELOPMENT OF HIGHER EDUCATION 31 

Statistical facts in the field of higher education vary 
from year to year^ increasing for the most part with such 
rapidity that any set of figures soon becomes out of date. 
Perhaps it is worth our while^ however, to note that in 
1916, according to the report of the United States Com- 
missioner of Education, there were 563 institutions of 
higher education — universities, colleges, and independent 
professional and technological schools, ninety-three being 
state institutions — or one for each hundred and seventy-five 
thousand of population. Paradoxically, the ratio is least 
where the population is densest, in the northern and central 
states. The total number is decreasing, since consolida- 
tions, and the abandonment of these which are hopelessly 
poverty stricken more than overbalance new foundations. 

The total attendance is far from decreasing, however. 
National growth swelled the number of students, gradually 
at first, then with accelerated rapidity, until in recent years 
the rate of increase has become four times that of the 
population. Fifty years ago the largest universities had 
five or six hundred students. At the present time several 
have an enrollment of more than fi.ve thousand, and bid 
fair to become huge educational communities of double this 
number. The college has gained a normal attendance of 
hundreds, the university of thousands.^ 

In the country at large more than two hundred thousand 
young men and women are enjoying the advantages of 
higher education, approximately half the number being in 
colleges of liberal arts, and the others distributed among 
the various specialized schools of technical and profes- 
sional training. It is a magnificent army of progress, yet 
we must not overlook the fact that relatively only a few 
boys and girls ever attain these advantages. The number 
of children enrolled in the primary grades is about twenty 

advanced study of more specialized character; that at least five 
departments must have adequate facilities for three years of 
graduate work leading; to the degree of doctor of philosophy; 
and that there must be at least one professional or technical 
school requiring for entrance two years of college work. 

^ The total registration at Columbia University in 1916, excluding 
that of its enormous summer school, was almost twelve thousand. 



32 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

millions^ but this number shrinks to about a million and a 
half in the secondary schools, and this again to less than a 
quarter of a million in the more advanced institutions. The 
youth of the latter is almost literally one in a hundred; the 
rest have dropped out by the way, unwilling or unable to 
pursue further study. 

The financial side of the development of higher educa- 
tion has been equally impressive. "At the beginning of 
the nineteenth century/' says President Thwing, "the whole 
amount of the productive funds of all the colleges was 
probably less than five hundred thousand dollars."* It is 
now approximately four hundred millions ; and an even 
larger sum is represented by material equipment, such 
as buildings, libraries and apparatus. A few universities 
have endowment amounting to twenty million dollars or 
more; several have an income of one to three millions. 
Most state universities, on the other hand, have compara- 
tively little productive endowment, and charge small tuition 
fees or none at all. Their income derived from taxation, 
however, equals and promises to exceed that of their richly 
endowed sisters. A millage tax upon the property of an 
affluent state yields its university a revenue which privately 
founded institutions, even though wealthy, may well envy. 
The total income for the country is over a hundred million 
dollars, half of which comes from tuition fees, and half 
from gifts, bequests, interest on endowment, and taxation. 

Huge as are these financial figures it is nevertheless 
true that colleges and universities almost without exception 
find their resources inadequate. So vast and expensive is 
their work, so needful the increase of instruction and equip- 
ment, that the problem of making both ends meet is one 
which constantly faces college and university administra- 
tions. And it is a problem which seems to have no prospect 
of solution! 

The Development of the Curriculum 

The curriculum responded to the national development 
rather slowly. Ancient languages, rhetoric, mathematics, 
philosophy, with a little history and science, constituted 
* History of Higher Education in America, p. 334. 



DEVELOPMENT OF HIGHER EDUCATION S3 

the bulk of college study throughout the first half of the 
nineteenth century as they had done for the two centuries 
preceding. The principal changes were that Hebrew was 
dropped or made elective^ the sciences of chemistry, 
physics, astronomy, geology, botany and zoology gained 
a foothold, instruction in history and economics was im- 
proved, and modern languages attained a somewhat un- 
certain standing.^ There was criticism on the ground that 
the college had failed to keep pace with the times, and 
with the new interests of expanding national life. Instruc- 
tion in modern languages was demanded, not only for lit- 
erary and historical purposes, but in order to facilitate 
commercial relations with other countries. Great advances 
were being made in the field of pure science, advances 
which it w^as presumably the business of the college to 
promulgate. Inside and outside jDressure gradually forced 
a reform of the curriculum. The new subjects received 
recognition, and the old ones reluctantly gave way. Yet 
the inertia of conservatism was so great that the new 
ideas gained ground very slowly, and we find the old 
order abiding in many colleges until late in the century.^ 

The decade 1820-1 830 witnessed an especially noteworthy 
outburst of the new educational idealism. Thomas Jeifer- 
son's plan for the University of Virginia, founded through 
his influence in 1825, shows the most advanced spirit of 
the time, and may well remain a beacon for guidance to- 
day. According to it the purposes of higher education are: 

(1) To form the statesmen, legislators, and judges, 

•Within the opening years of the century at least five colleges 
introduced instruction in chemistry and natural philosophy (phys- 
ics). William and Mary College established a chair of history 
in 1822. Economics was taught at Harvard in 1820. In the same 
period several colleges provided instruction in French, usually 
as an "extra" study. Thwing, History of Higher Education in 
America, pp. 301 ff. 

^ "Throughout the century the history of the college curriculum 
is the record of institutions, under conservative influences, forced 
by the growth of human knowledge and the demands of an in- 
creasingly complex civilization, to take up one new subject after 
another, and present them in more vital relations to present social, 
industrial and political needs." Foster, Administration of the 
College Curriculum, p. 21. 



34 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

upon whom public prosperity and individual happiness are 
so much to depend; 

(2) To expound the principles and structure of govern- 
ment^ the laws which regulate the intercourse of nations, 
those formed municipally for our own government, and a 
sound spirit of legislation, which, banishing all unnecessary 
restraint on individual action, shall leave us free to do 
whatever does not violate the equal rights of another; 

(3) To harmonize and promote the interests of agricul- 
ture, manufactures, and commerce, and by well informed 
views of political economy to give a free scope to the 
public industry; 

(4) To develop the reasoning faculties of our youth, 
enlarge their minds, cultivate their morals, and instil into 
them the precepts of virtue and order; 

(5) To enlighten them with mathematical and physical 
sciences, which advance the arts, and administer to the 
health, the subsistence, and comforts of human life; 

(6) And, generally, to form them to habits of reflection 
and correct action, rendering them examples of virtue to 
others, and of happiness within themselves."^ 

A central feature of this project was its application of 
the "elective" principle. The curriculum of the university 
was divided into ten departments or "schools," and it 
was enacted that "Every student shall be free to attend the 
schools of his choice, and no other than he chooses." In 
other colleges the same principle of freedom was very 
guardedly admitted in the form of "options" — between 
Hebrew and French, for example — or "extra studies" for 
which a special fee was charged. At Harvard, under the 
influence of George Ticknor, and at Brown under that of 
President Francis Wayland, there was a considerable exten- 
sion of the new idea. In general, however, the regime 
of required studies continued throughout American colleges 
until the last third of the century. Then at length the 
spirit of freedom, the increased range of study, and the 
strong influence of Harvard under the presidency of Eliot 
made the elective system dominant in American higher 
education. Little by little the prescribed mathematics, 

^ Thwing, History of Higher Education in America, p. 199. 



DEVELOPMENT OF HIGHER EDUCATION 35 

classics and other subjects were pushed back into the 
earlier years of the course^ modified or eliminated^ while 
their places were taken by new studies. The curriculum 
became an ever widening field over which the student 
might range almost at will.^ 

With regard to principles and methods of instruction the 
early colonial college was English in character; it began 
with a "tutorial" system. Later influences, particularly 
those of the movement toward educational freedom which 
culminated in the founding of the University of Virginia, 
were of French origin. Still later, in the latter part of the 
nineteenth century, it was the German university, with 
its advanced study and original research, which stimulated 
progress. Johns Hopkins University was founded at Bal- 
timore in 1876 especially for the training of scholars, and 
its influence soon spread to other institutions. The develop- 
ment of the curriculum called for new methods of instruc- 
tion. Scientific laboratories appeared, and libraries grew 
with unprecedented rapidity. Lectures supplanted class- 
room drill. College teaching became in form and sub- 
stance the communication of the maturest and the most 
recent scholarship. Inevitably there was a loss of "in- 
dividual training" and of the peculiar disciplinary value 
of the older regime, but on the whole the development 
produced educational maturity and signified progress. 

Social Development 

At its origin the American college, which was patterned 
after English models, had an inheritance of aristocratic 
ideas ; its enrollment was largely from the upper classes 
of society, and its daily life was slightly tinged by social 
distinctions. The revolutionary spirit of freedom and 
equality naturally put an end to this, however, and as the 
nation developed we find the college becoming increasingly 
"democratic," in the sense that it reached out to include 

* Leading institutions now Hst enough courses in a single de- 
partment to occupy the entire time of a student, were he to take 
them all at the usual rate of fifteen hours a week, during his 
whole college course and longer. To complete all the coi:r*f« 
offered by a modern university college of the first rank would 
take a lifetime. 



36 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

all classes, and that any one with ambition could obtain 
its privileges. Especially did the state universities, with 
their free instruction, invite to their halls the youth of 
every sort and condition. Not only has the expanding 
public school system made a highway for individual prog- 
ress, but not infrequently young men and women outside 
its scope have found an open road along which they could 
make their way, with determined industry, to the best 
education that our national life affords. Young men have 
got their vision in the depths of an Illinois coal mine, 
in the granite quarries of Maine, in the factories of the 
east and on the farms of the west, and have attained emi- 
nence in law, in medicine and surgery, and as political 
leaders of the nation. A large majority of college students 
are the children of parents who did not themselves have 
the privileges which they bestow with such eager self 
sacrifice upon their sons and daughters; and at least a 
third of the total number are wholly or partially support- 
ing themselves in college. In view of these facts it is 
clear that higher education has become democratically rep- 
resentative of the nation.^ 

Expansion in numbers also produced complexity of 
organization. As the natural tendency of any large body 
is to subdivide into smaller groups, we find from decade to 
decade an increasing number of clubs and societies of 
various kinds, each of which helped in its own way to 
give character to college life. Literary and debating soci- 

°A1I colleges declare themselves to be internally "democratic," 
and the assertion is generally true. Real abihty and sterhng 
qualities of character everywhere receive recognition. On the 
whole, men win their places in college by merit, and merit alone. 
Class and college oiBcers, scholarly honors, positions on athletic 
teams, and the like, go to students who deserve them, regardless 
of minor considerations. Exceptions to this rule are so rare as 
to be negligible. In this sense democracy operates in college 
quite as successfully as in society at large. On the other hand 
there is a great deal of caste spirit, snobbishness, ostentatious 
wealth, and some social injustice. This is inevitable, and it lies 
beyond the range of regulation. If it does not take a conspic- 
uously offensive form, or intrude itself into the government of 
the college, it does not refute the assertion that the latter is really 
democratic. 



DEVELOPMENT OF HIGHER EDUCATION 37 

eties came doAvn from colonial times; to these was added a 
lengthening list of fraternities, musical and dramatic clubs, 
college newsjDapers and magazines, and a dozen forms 
of athletic sports, not to mention numerous less conspicuous 
activities. ^*^ These are now numbered by scores in a single 
college, while several universities have well over a hundred. 
Social functions fill the college calendar, making college 
citizenship quite as complex, quite as taxing and exciting 
as is citizenship in a larger political group. Whereas these 
matters were until recently distinctly secondary features 
of college life, they have in some cases reached a pitch 
of competition with the curriculum, or even of dominance 
over it. One writer estimates the amount of non-studious 
college life as ninety per cent! But whatever the per- 
centage, it is certain that the college has evolved from a 
small boarding school into a large educational community 
with a multitude of diverse social interests and activities. ^-"^ 
One consequence of this social evolution was the separa- 
tion of faculty and student body. As the latter increased 
in numbers and in complexity of organization, the former 

^° For an extensive account of this development see Sheldon, 
Student Life and Customs, Chs. Ill, IV, V. 

"AVhat should be the attitude of college authorities toward this 
remarkable social development is a puzzling problem. It is 
humorously proposed to recognize it as inevitable and to estab- 
lish colleges without any curriculum of study whatever, but with 
appropriate degrees for social and athletic accomplishment — S.S. 
(Social Shark), Sp.D. (Doctor Spheromachiae), and the like. 
More seriously we are told that study is only one kind of educa- 
tion, and that training for citizenship comes in other ways. Cer- 
tainly these social activities are not mere diversions; they are 
varied ways of socializing the individual in preparation for later 
life. Some of them, especially athletics and the college press, 
have the function of unifying the college body. Others are rather 
divisive, e.g., fraternities, but may be made cooperative in ad- 
vancing the welfare of the college. It should be added that the 
extent of this social hypertrophy is commonly overestimated. 
Study, because it is naturally quiet and secluded, escapes observa- 
tion, its currents run deep, while the superficial, effervescent 
froth of the stream of college life is more conspicuous. There 
is more hard work in college than the public is sometimes led to 
suppose, and the amount is increasing. Social activities are being 
subjected to order, related to study, and made instrumental to the 
good of the institution. 



38 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

likewise found itself occupied with new interests, especially 
those of private study, so that the college community 
tended to divide itself into two parts which met in the 
class room and on certain formal occasions, but other- 
wise revolved around different social centers. This condi- 
tion has been somewhat overcome by deliberate "mixing," 
but in general students find few points of social contact 
with their instructors. Of course the parental supervision 
characterizing the early college is gone, irrevocably and 
properly, but it is to be hoped that a friendly spirit will 
develop in its place. What is needed is a greater measure 
of social intercourse based on common educational sym- 
pathies. Some students carry away from college, among 
their most highly prized recollections, that of comradeship 
with their teachers, a relation which gave all topics, politi- 
cal, recreational and religious as well as those of study, 
a common interest. It is desirable that more should do 
so. 

The social development also necessitated a change in 
ideas of college government. The domestic regime of the 
early college with its strict regulations and petty discipline 
proved inadequate to the new conditions, the more so be- 
cause the maturity of students increased with the spread 
of facilities for preparatory education, so that the prob- 
lem was that of governing young men rather than boys. 
The college atmosphere was pervaded, too, by a spirit of 
freedom, a legacy from revolutionary times. Lawlessness 
and insubordination were so frequent that "college pranks" 
became a byword. We read of student rebellions, of town 
and gown rows, of predatory societies which raided hen- 
roosts and wantonly destroyed property, of the ceremonial 
burning of textbooks, of discordant serenades to unpopular 
members of the faculty, and so on. The more stringent 
the college discipline, the greater was the temptation to 
perpetrate some humorous defiance of authority.^^ 

Here and there, however, the leaven of orderly self 
government was at work. The idea of a college democracy 
was in the mind of Thomas Jefferson, and it formed a part 
of his project of the University of Virginia, which influ- 

"See Sheldon, Student Life and Customs, Chap. III. 



DEVELOPMENT OF HIGHER EDUCATION 39 

enced many other institutions. Among the more notable 
experiments were those of the University of Illinois in 
1868, a very elaborate organization which soon proved 
imworJvable, and the more effective Amherst "senate" of 
1883. The most practical feature of these schemes was 
the "honor system" of conducting examinations. Apart 
from this the various efforts were not very successful. 
But though the governmental organizations usually had a 
troubled and transitory existence, the outcome was a deep- 
ened sense of student responsibility, a diminution of law- 
lessness, and at least an approach to democratic self con- 
trol. Thus the soul of the nation, vigorous, bumptious, self 
reliant and progressive, revealed itself in the life of the 
college. 

Finally, the social development of the college has dis- 
played idealism in respect to religion. The early condi- 
tions, it will be recalled, were those of strict orthodoxy 
and formal piety, conditions which could not remain un- 
affected by the secular tendencies of national life. In 
time, under the influence of the revolutionary spirit, the 
college atmosphere was shot through with free thinking. 
Atheism and agnosticism were occasionally in fashion. 
Conformity to religious requirements tended to become 
perfunctory or even disorderly, and indifference to religious 
interests sometimes took the form of vicious practices. On 
the other hand the formation of religious societies, par- 
ticularly the Christian Associations which entered the 
colleges in the latter part of the century, encouraged 
religious interest and gave it practical direction. Teaching 
no less than practice presented religion in a more favorable 
light. Its vital function in human life is recognized, be- 
cause it is seen to mean, not verbal profession or formal 
worship, but faith in one's fellows, right purposes, and 
friendly helpfulness. Even the doubtful who, like Abou 
Ben Adhem, are uncertain about their relation to God, 
desire to be written among those who love their fellow men. 
Though there is yet large room for religious development 
in college life the general tendency is upward. 



CHAPTER IV 



SPECIAL DEVELOPMENTS 



The Small College 

Of the hundreds of American institutions of higher 
education most are small colleges. Of the thousands of 
college students more than half are in little schools of 
learning scattered here and there throughout the country, 
many of them hardly known outside the circle of their 
immediate environment. Though the huge university is 
more consjDicuous, and perhaps increasingly dominant in 
the movement of higher education, the spread and force of 
that movement reach far beyond the universities. The 
prevalent form of American higher learning is found in 
the halls of the small college. 

The historical development of such colleges has been in 
general outline uniform. Established in faith and poverty 
they have worked loyally in memory of their founders, 
facing needs greatly in excess of their resources, and aim- 
ing constantly at ideals higher than mere material pros- 
perity. Some have grown to the proportions of universities; 
a few have yielded to adverse circumstances and have 
been abandoned; most have persistently struggled along 
from year to year, preserving their original character and 
in some cases fortunately attaining independence. More 
than one is peculiarly a monument to a great president, a 
leader of large faith and broad vision who wrought wisely, 
untiringly, and with splendid self sacrifice, establishing 
the college firmly, and sending forth into the community, 
the state and the nation a stream of young men and young 
women characterized in some measure by his own steadiness 

40 



SPECIAL DEVELOPMENTS 41 

of purpose and energetic faith. ^ To belong as alumnus to 
such an institution is a lifelong distinction. 

The small college ordinarily labors under great diffi- 
culties^ however. Students usually prefer to enter larger 
and better equipped institutions, and those who come with 
a more modest ambition are sometimes drawn away to 
universities before the completion of their course. And 
in addition to such loss the prolongation of the high school 
course and the overshadowing importance of the profes- 
sional and technical school seem in some cases to threaten 
the very existence of the small college. It is "squeezed" 
from all sides ! The proposal has been made that it aban- 
don its four year course and limit its work to the first 
two years of preparation for university study, a function 
for which it is especially fitted.^ But as this change would 
virtually mean a termination of its historic individuality it 
can hardly find favor. Most colleges prefer to fight on. 

The financial problem is especially serious. Almost 
every college feels the pinches of poverty, since the de- 
mand for instruction and the need of new material facili- 
ties increases more rapidly than its income. Its scanty 
endowment proves wholly inadequate, and support by the 
religious denomination which it represents is a fluctuating 
and uncertain resource. Fees must be low, particularly 
in competition with state universities which charge none, 
and this enhances the difficulty since higher education 
always costs more than the individual pays in fees. The 
expense per student is not infrequently two or three times 
the amount charged for tuition,^ and the deficit is increased 
in the case of students who enjoy free scholarships. 
^ Such, for example, were Eliphalet Nott of Union, Mark Hop- 
kins of Williams, Francis Wayland of Brown, Nathan Lord of 
Dartmouth and Leonard Woods of Bowdoin. President Thwing 
remarks that "the history of each of these colleges is embodied 
in the biography of its president." History of Higher Education 
in America, p. 280. 

^ Harper, Trend in Higher Education, pp. 378 ff. 
^Evidently this unbusinesslike practice can be justified only by 
one consideration — the additional value of the educated citizen 
to society. Colleges are semi-philanthropic institutions, and on 
this ground are usually relieved wholly or in part of the burden 
of taxation. But this implies that they shall send out a properly 



42 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

Forces seem to conspire to keep the college poor! Yet 
this academic poverty is often of a healthy, hoj^efiil kind. 
The college looks forward to brighter days, and in the 
meantime works industriously with the means at its 
command. 

There can be no doubt of the value of the services of the 
small colleges to the nation. Their necessary limitation 
to fundamentals in the curriculum, the close personal atten- 
tion which their size permits them to give to the individual 
student, their intimate group life — these and other char- 
acteristics are distinctly meritorious. Situated in scores of 
communities which would otherwise have been without 
higher educational advantages, they have done much to 
sharpen the intelligence, elevate the taste, and strengthen 
the moral life of the American people. 

The State University 

In the state university we have a special development 
of American higher education which is perhaps its most 
distinctive and significant feature. It is not novel in 
principle, for the colonial colleges were in a sense state 
projects; but in its aims, the scope of its work, and 
the form which it has assumed in response to public 
needs, it peculiarly expresses the American spirit and gives 
promise for the future. It is the culminating embodiment 
of what has been termed the "state educational conscious- 
ness," i.e., the conviction that higher education is properly 
a function of the state, a sense of duty to support such 
education financially, and a conception of the service which 
the institution may render the state in return for this sup- 
port. Many important problems of social, political and 
industrial life are under continual investigation at the 
state universities. These great and growing schools are 
destined to play a vital part in the development, not' only 
of their respective states, but of the nation.* 
educated and socialized product — and that this responsibility rests 
likewise upon the student. Free scholarships are justified in the 
same way. The recipients are not objects of charity, but are 
concrete human investments from whom a future return in good 
citizenship is rightly expected. 
*A few cities have likewise capped their public school systems 



SPECIAL DEVELOPMENTS 4S 

The first movement of the sort appeared in the South. 
Mar3dand, Georgia, North Carolina and Tennessee estab- 
lished colleges before the close of the eighteenth century, 
and other states soon followed their example.^ The Uni- 
versity of Virginia is especially noteworthy as the embodi- 
ment of the politico-educational ideas of Thomas Jefferson. 
A somewhat distinct movement began with the founding 
of universities by several states of the west, for from 
these have come the great institutions of the present day. 
The University of Michigan was founded in 1837. One 
commonwealth after another declared its conviction that 
social and political welfare are dependent upon an edu- 
cated citizenship, until the network of universities stretched 
unbroken, except in a few of the Atlantic coast states, 
from Maine to California, from Florida to Washington. 

At the outset the state institutions naturally assumed the 
traditional form of the earlier colleges, continuing the 
familiar curriculum and social life. In the closing decades 
of the nineteenth century, however, they developed the 
peculiar character which makes them of special interest 
to the student of the history of higher education. The 
dominating idea becomes that of organic relation to the 
state. Accordingly we find them putting themselves in 
closer touch with the secondary schools, broadening and 
simplifying entrance requirements, improving administra- 
tion, eliminating corrupt political influences, and devising 
more generous support, frequently in the form of regular 
taxation. The curriculum expands in an unprecedented 
way both culturally and practically, but with special atten- 
tion to the economic needs of the state and the develop- 
ment of intelligent citizenship.^ 

with a college or university. New York, Cincinnati, Louisville 
and a few others now have such municipal institutions. There 
have also been repeated projects for a national university, but 
as yet this idea remains unrealized, though the interest of the 
national government in higher education is expressed in a variety 
of ways, such as the Carnegie Bureau of Research and the 
Smithsonian Institution. 

^ A leading motive was the desire to avoid the necessity of send- 
ing young men to the distant institutions of the north, with their 
different political and social atmosphere. 

®The University of Illinois, for example, includes the follow- 



44 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

As a result of this development their attendance in- 
creases by leaps and bounds. Several have now passed 
the five thousand mark^ and a few find themselves facing 
an approaching flood of double this number. Every year 
many thousands of American youth pass naturally and 
easily from their secondary schools to the best university 
education which their respective states afford. Higher 
learning broadens from an aristocratic privilege to a demo- 
cratic opportunity. 

No less significant are the varied forms of service which 
the university performs for its constituency throughout the 
state. To take the University of Wisconsin, the leader 
in this service, as an arch illustration, its library sends 
books all over the 56,000 square miles of its "larger 
campus," its school of agriculture develops improved meth- 
ods of dairying and instructs farmers in the use of them, 
members of its faculty serve on all sorts of state boards, 
commissions and surveys, its students cooperate in gather- 
ing and distributing information on political and social 
topics. In short it is animated by an idealism of effective 
service which wins the respect and pride of the state as 
well as a liberal income.'^ 

Social and moral conditions within the state universities 
are sometimes contrasted unfavorably, especially by relig- 
ious critics, with those of other colleges. Such criticism, 
however, is usually the expression of ignorance and preju- 

ing departments: College of Literature and Arts, College of 
Science, College of Engineering, College of Agriculture, Grad- 
uate School, Library School, School of Music, School of Educa- 
tion, School of Railway Engineering and Administration, College 
of Law, School of Pharmacy. Elsewhere we find schools of min- 
ing, of forestry, of medicine, of veterinary science, of journalism, 
and of architecture, under state auspices. Perhaps, as is alleged, 
the dominating spirit of state university education is practical, 
but it is noteworthy that the older curriculum of liberal study is 
retained and that several institutions are developing graduate 
schools with a tendency toward scholarly research. The Uni- 
versity of Cahfornia includes the Lick Observatory, and pubhshes 
volumes on archeology, ethnology, classical philology and philos- 
ophy. 

■^ For a detailed statement see Slosson, Great American Univer- 
sities, Chap. VII. 



SPECIAL DEVELOPMENTS 45 

dice. Whatever differences exist are superficial rather 
than profound. Human nature is essentially the same in 
college students and college faculties of all types. Yet 
it is true that the state university enjoys a heightened "con- 
sciousness of freedom" in respect to daily life, a feeling 
which arises partly from the absence of religious control, 
but also from its sheer size, which necessarily increases 
the distance between the central authority and the individ- 
ual student. As a result there is perhaps a more prevalent 
inclination toward bumptious and boisterous fun-making 
than is found in privately controlled institutions. Its 
performances are more massive and unrestrained, hence 
more conspicuous. Possibly, too, the social frivolities in- 
cidental to coeduation are somewhat more wearisome, for 
here again is a matter which the size and constitution of 
the university renders difficult of regulation. But in spite 
of such abuse of freedom the life of the state university 
is on the whole sound and healthy. If the forces of folly 
are stronger than in the small college they are not so in 
comparison with other great universities, and in any case 
the forces of right living are at least equally strong. 

Religious tendencies are likewise progressive. State 
universities are of course constitutionally free from sec- 
tarian domination, and at the same time are careful not 
to give offence to sectarian feeling. Attendance at religious 
services is voluntary, and the teaching of religious subjects 
must be broad if not strictly scientific and historical. On 
the other hand the Young Men's and Young Women's 
Christian Associations, not to mention numerous other 
organizations, take care of the religious interests of the 
individual student, and also perform various unofficial but 
effective services to the college community. Denominational 
authorities also are finding it desirable to maintain "col- 
lege pastors" for the hundreds of students of their respec- 
tive faiths in residence at the state university — numbers 
sometimes greater than those within their own colleges. 
Thus the atmosphere of religious freedom is favorable to 
harmony and progress; and the general condition which 
results is an advancement of religion in the broadest and 
best meaning of the term. 



46 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

Higher Education for Women 

This is less than a century old. In colonial times girls 
were trained in their homes for domestic duties — spinning, 
weaving and the other household arts — and were thought 
incapable of receiving intellectual education, though occa- 
sionally they shared private instruction with their brothers, 
and there were notable cases of highly cultured women in 
Revolutionary days. But with few exceptions there were 
no schools for girls,^ and little "schooling" beyond the 
most elementary kind. Illiteracy among women was com- 
mon. 

The need of education for women appeared in conse- 
quence of the industrial development of the country, and 
the increasing complexity of social life. The changing 
conditions tended to relieve them of their traditional do- 
mestic occupations and to place them in positions for 
which other qualifications were requisite. There was dan- 
ger, of course, as we sometimes see to-day, that the kind 
of education fashionable for them would become that of 
shallow intellectual and artistic accomplishments, decorative 
rather than substantial. But fortunately a healthier 
development took place, partly through the special efforts 
of wise men and women who understood the problem, partly 
through the general extension to girls of the education 
which had previously been given only to boys. 

In 1790 Boston admitted girls to its public schools, and 
ere long its example was followed by other cities and 
towns. Somewhat later several academies opened their 
doors to girls as well as to boys, while others were 
established exclusively for them. Particularly noteworthy 
are Emma Willard's seminary at Troy, which began its 
work in 1822, and Mount Holyoke, founded by Mary Lyon 
in 1837. The spirit of these schools was studious and at 
the same time deeply religious. They are monuments of 
the earnest, thoughtful desire of their founders to give 

*The Moravians had a seminary for girls at Bethlehem, Penn- 
sylvania, as early as 1749. For a description of colonial condi- 
tions see Thwing, History of Higher Education in America, Ch. 
XV. 



SPECIAL DEVELOPMENTS 47 

young women a form of education appropriate to their 
nature and situation in life. 

The college education of women began at Oberlin. Four 
entered in 1837 as candidates for a degree, and three of 
these graduated four j^ears later, the first women to receive 
a college degree in America. Oberlin thus set the example 
of collegiate coeducation for the country, an example which 
was soon followed by many other institutions. Of the 
colleges exclusively for women Elmira, established in 1855, 
was the pioneer. Ten years later Matthew Vassar founded 
the college which bears his name,^ and this was followed 
by other important foundations, Wellesley, Smith, Bryn 
IMawr, which independently gave women the opportunity 
of higher education. A third type appeared in the found- 
ing of Radcliffe College in 1879 as an annex to Harvard. 
Before the end of the century several other colleges and 
universities created similar departments for women, though 
usually with a limited curriculum and inadequate facilities. 
But here as elsewhere in college history small beginnings 
led to a more prosperous condition. The annex became the 
"coordinate college," growing quite as rapidly as its big 
brother, and, it must be acknowledged, displaying consid- 
erably more educational earnestness ! 

Each of these three types has its peculiarities, its ad- 
vantages and disadvantages, both in curriculum facilities 
and in social life. Coeducation, however, is the predomi- 
nant type throughout the country; in fact almost all col- 
leges and universities admit young men and J^oung women 
on the same footing.^^ 

Young women have flocked to institutions of each kind. 
In coeducational colleges, especially those belonging to 
state universities, they usually outnumber the men, some- 

' "It is my hope to be the instrument, in the hands of Provi- 
dence, of founding and perpetuating an institution which shall 
accomplish for young women what our colleges are accomplishing 
for young men." See Thwing, op. cit., p. 344, 345. 

^•^ Most of the colleges exclusively for either sex are in the At- 
lantic Coast states, and some of these belong to universities, e.g., 
Yale, which admit women to certain departments. Three state 
universities, Virginia, Georgia and Florida, have not as yet joined 
the coeducational ranks. 



48 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

times in large preponderance, since the latter gravitate 
naturally toward technical and professional schools. Inci- 
dentally, very interesting problems have arisen concerning 
the kind of education most appropriate for women in 
respect to their tastes, natural habits of mind, and probable 
occupation in life. At the outset women necessarily ac- 
cepted the existing curriculum, and sought zealously to 
demonstrate their competency in it — an eifort which proved 
unquestionably successful. It is not clear, however, that 
this curriculum is altogether adapted to their needs. As 
general culture it is doubtless appropriate for both sexes, 
but as preparation for vocational life — and it has always 
included a great deal of this — it is conspicuously devoid of 
training for the kind of occupation into which most women 
go. This fact has led some institutions, especially state 
universities, to develop the scientific study of household 
economics to a high level of organization and efficiency. 
In advanced graduate and professional study comparatively 
few women are found, partly through lack of interest in 
research, but also, no doubt, because of unpromising eco- 
nomic conditions. As regards collegiate education, however, 
there is no question that it has proved acceptable, or that 
it has been abundantly justified by its results. 



CHAPTER V 

THE PURPOSE OF THE COLLEGE 

The Meaning of Education 

What is "education"? Since the college, like other 
schools, makes a business of it, let us begin by considering 
its general meaning. We find that definitions usually 
emphasize one or another of three ideas, all of which are 
essential. First, the traditional and familiar view is that 
education is a training of the mind, — a training especially 
of the intelligence, but also to some extent a training of 
the feelings and the will. It sharpens the powers of atten- 
tion, of judgment and reasoning, it brings stores of infor- 
mation, it cultivates taste and sympathy, it forms habits 
and encourages activity and enterprise. Second, as the 
derivation of the term indicates, it "brings out" what is 
implicit in human nature. It develops instincts, interests 
and capabilities into mature power. Third, it "adjusts 
the individual to his environment" by giving him a better 
understanding of nature and a useful place in the world. 
Ideally, therefore, education is the process of developing 
the individual as an intelligent, active and sympathetic 
member of society. 

This rather vague idea becomes clearer when we note 
that education deals with three fundamental characteristics 
of human nature, work, play and love — work in the sense 
of all serious, productive effort; play signifying broadly 
all forms of recreation, both physical and mental; love in 
its generic meaning of sympathetic social relationships — 
the scriptural and basic meaning of the term. These are 
indeed the essential features of life itself; without them 
the individual seems to us lacking in humanity. Workless 
lives there are, it is true — the tramp at one end of the 

49 



50 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

social scale and the idle rich at the other; but they arouse 
in us an instinctive revulsion. So too there are playless 
lives, and these, particularly in the case of children, are 
sometimes tragic. The discovery of the significance of 
play, and of the need of providing facilities for it, is one 
of the great educational accomplishments of recent times. 
Finally there are essentially unsympathetic lives, and they 
never fail to remind us that sympathy is essential to 
humanity. These interests are our human birthright; na- 
ture has provided us with instincts for exercising them. 
They are therefore also life's aims. 

They are not separate and unrelated, however. Work 
may be done in the spirit of play — perhaps it should be 
so done much more frequently than is usual. Likewise 
many engaging plays — football and chess, for example — 
are rather hard work. And both work and play are ordi- 
narily social performances; indeed their value lies partly 
in this fact. Love also expresses itself in both work and 
play. These aspects of life are thoroughly interdependent, 
and the ideal life is one which combines them in harmony. 
Education may therefore be regarded as the development 
and correlation of them in preparation for life. 

We too commonly think of education as exclusively a 
matter of the intellect, and identify it with the process of 
acquiring information. We treat it as synonymous with 
knowledge or learning, as in the familiar saying that the 
educated man knows something about everything and 
everything about something. Accordingly our school cur- 
riculum makes its demands for the most part upon the 
intellect of the pupil, and sometimes seems hardly more 
than an effort to fill him up with facts and to give 
practice in routine mental operations. This view has a 
sound principle, namely that education is mental training. 
But it is one-sided in its emphasis upon recitation and its 
failure to recognize other forms of reaction. Education 
ought to involve the doing of things under the actual 
conditions of life. Moreover, the common view too often 
takes little or no account of the function of play and 
of the social nature of the individual. These should not 
be left to the casual training and associations of the 



THE PURPOSE OF THE COLLEGE 51 

school plaj^ground and the street. In other words the 
mind should be trained, not simply for the sake of intel- 
lectual proficiency, but for the better exercise of all its 
industrial, recreational and sympathetic interests.^ 

College Education 

Like all education that of the college is the development 
of natural interests and powers. Its distinctive character 
is that by using the maturer faculties of the mind it 
accomplishes this in a more advanced and thorough way 
than do the lower schools. As training for work it dis- 
ciplines the student in habits of intensive study; it teaches 
him to formulate a j^roblem, gather materials for its solu- 
tion, and think his way through to a conclusion. It thus 
cultivates the power of intelligent self direction and inde- 
pendent activity. In contrast to the technical and pro- 
fessional schools it offers less specific preparation for 
particular vocations, but its training, though more general, 
is none the less valuable with reference to later work. 
Analytic skill, systematic thoroughness, and the power of 
independent effort make for efficiency and success in every 
sphere of human activity.^ 

^"I take it that the whole object of education is, in the first 
place, to train the faculties of the young in such a manner as 
to give their possessors the best chance of being happy and use- 
ful in their generation; and, in the second place, to furnish 
them with the most important portions of that immense capital- 
ized experience of the human race which we call knowledge of 
various kinds." Huxley, Science, Art, and Education. 

^ There is plenty of evidence, statistics as well as personal 
testimony, that college students who give themselves this sort of 
training distinguish themselves in later life. The common opinion 
that the hard student is less successful than the unstudious "all 
round college man" is a lingering superstition unsupported by 
facts. Habits of luxury, laziness and superficial reading, even 
when accompanied by good nature and energy in "college life," 
do not constitute satisfactory preparation for industrial or pro- 
fessional pursuits. Fortunately it is possible to o%^ercome most 
bad habits after leaving college. Many young men have been 
saved by going to work at hard, monotonous drudgery in office 
or factory. But these, in their own judgment, would have fared 
better had they made themselves capable workmen in their col- 
lege years. 



52 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

Secondly, the college offers facilities for training in 
play. Most conspicuous are those for physical recreation, 
a gymnasium full of apparatus, and an athletic field with 
gridiron, diamond, track and courts. Every one ought to 
learn, if he has not done so before entering college, how 
to take exercise in enjoyable ways. But play is not only 
physical; it includes mental recreation, and it is the duty 
of the college to develop such interests. A cultivated 
taste for the best literature and an appreciative under- 
standing of the principal forms of art, especially music, 
the drama, painting and architecture, should be among the 
permanent results of a college course, to the relative 
exclusion of the forms of art and literature characteristic 
of the cheap novel and magazine, the Sunday Supplement, 
vaudeville and ragtime. A catholic taste may also be 
refined. 

In the third place, college education is social education. 
We ordinarily take our social nature and relationships so 
uncritically that we do not appreciate the need of special 
attention and training in such matters. Yet this need un- 
questionably exists. It is quite as absurd to leave the 
social instincts to casual development as it would be to 
do this with intellectual powers. Education is requisite in 
both cases. The college is the place where the most thor- 
oughly "socialized" type should be developed, the place 
from which the student should go forth with the best equip- 
ment for citizenship and social helpfulness. The features 
of college life which are especially useful for this purpose\ 
are the friendships, athletic games, clubs and fraternities, 
in fact every enterprise which involves the cooperation of 
several persons. The common enthusiasm, the sinking of 
selfish interests, the labor for some cause which is bigger 
than oneself, are the best social training. Yet these need 
to be rationally controlled and directed to worthy ends. 
The pitiable isolation of the man who cannot "mix" is no 
worse than the gregariousness which cannot bear solitude, 
or the cheap good fellowship of the "sport," or the frothi- 
ness of "society."^ Accordingly it is the business of the 

^ The sound idea of college education as "training for citizen- 
ship is occasionally perverted into contempt for study in com- 



THE PURPOSE OF THE COLLEGE 5S 

college to teach students the nature of their own social 
instinct and their relation to larger social activities.* 

The distinctive character of college education lies in its 
application of the mature powers of the mind. Its train- 
ing is more learned^ is broader and more thorough than 
that of the lower schools. This implies in the first place 
that college graduates shall be able, as President Hadley 
has said, to calculate the unseen consequences of proposed 
conduct, and thus determine whether an action will in the 
long run work out the general good. Hasty, short sighted 
impulses are to be regulated by deliberately observing 
ultimate results. Secondly, higher education should lead 
to a more intelligent correlation of the various interests of 
life. Work and play, study and social effort all have 
their rightful place, and the difficulty is sometimes that 
of deciding what place. College training ought to prevent 
onesidedness of any sort, for the "grind" and the "sport" 
miss the same fullness of life. As a matter of fact 
college graduates as a class probably lead the most intel- 
ligent, well rounded, symmetrical lives. 

Cultural and Practical Education 

We have here an interesting controversy over educational 
ideals. Let us first see how it arose. 

The earliest colleges were founded with a double purpose, 
to produce an educated clergy and an intelligent, moral 

parison with the social features of college life. Many under- 
graduates and a few of their teachers have a comfortable con- 
viction that four years of good fellowship, with a modicum of 
intellectual labor in the form of "culture courses," constitute the 
best preparation for life. Ideal citizenship, like professional 
success, is not attainable except through hard work. 

* The sympathetic spirit is especially admirable when it spreads 
beyond the little group of personal associates and reaches hu- 
manity outside the college walls. Nothing is more to the credit 
of the modern college than the increasing number of young men 
and women who devote some time to social service, for example, 
work with boys' clubs and girls' classes. The period of later 
youth is naturally the one when the sympathies expand; and it is 
correspondingly desirable that these should become habituated to 
active, helpful expression during college years. The gain to 
society is matched by the strengthening and purification of the 
worker's character. 



54 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

citizenship; in other words their aim was at the same time 
vocational training and liberal culture. Moreover, this 
twofold purpose remained as the college curriculum ex- 
panded. The ministry, it is true, ceased to be the leading 
vocation, and fell into the background, while certain other 
occupations, particularly teaching, medicine, law and busi- 
ness, came to the fore; but at all times we find students 
pursuing their college course with definite occupational 
purpose, and where possible selecting their studies with 
reference to this. On the other hand the conception of a 
"liberal education" expanded during the nineteenth cen- 
tury, and the college became its chief representative. The 
curriculum is therefore composed of subjects which are 
instrumental rather to a broad, well rounded life than to 
any single calling. This process was of course facilitated 
by the separation of vocational curricula in distinct schools, 
and by the indifference of college teachers to vocational 
interests. It is noteworthy, too, that studies which entered 
the college course for practical reasons tended to assume 
the broader function of liberal culture. This is true of 
modern language, economics, education, and other studies. 
Hence in the minds of many people the task of the college 
is properly, even exclusively, that of giving a liberal educa- 
tion. Historically, both purposes have always manifested 
themselves. 

The practical mind of college youth is shown by the 
choice of subjects with reference to future professional 
study — for example chemistry and biology as preliminaries 
to medical training — and by the demand for a shortened 
course leading to a degree. At the same time there is 
impatience with studies which seem useless because not 
clearly related to vocational ends. Literature, history, 
mathematics and philosophy are regarded as futile by 
those who expect to graduate into a factory office, to 
superintend the construction of a railroad, or to deal with 
the specialized problems of law and medicine. Every field 
beside the narrow road which leads to making a living is 
thus likely to be regarded with disfavor, and some, par- 
ticularly the classics and pure mathematics, are especially 
unpopular. It is not sufficiently understood that non- 



THE PURPOSE OF THE COLLEGE 55 

vocational subjects may be "ultimately practical" in the 
sense of leading to an intelligent, sympathetic, self con- 
trolled and efficient life. Every student who is interested 
in this problem ought to grasp finally the truth that the 
practical business of life is much broader than the earning 
of a livelihood. 

Unfortunately the term "culture" is equally misunder- 
stood. Properly it signifies a general familiarity and 
sympathy with the studies, the literature, science and art, 
which represent various aspects of historical and contem- 
porary civilization, and which consequently give the student 
an intelligent view of nature and human society. A broad 
knowledge of literature, an appreciation of works of art, 
and an acquaintance with the conceptions of science, these 
enter into the meaning of "culture." In a narrow and 
unfortunate usage the term is taken to indicate a snobbish 
propensity for "polite learning," familiarity with classical 
allusions, and a dabbling in art. It correctly stands for 
a studied and sympathetic acquaintance with humanity and 
with the world at large. The cultured are those who have 
an intelligent outlook upon all matters, refined enjoyments, 
and last but not least, an active idealism.^ 

Cultural and practical subjects do not fall into two 
distinct classes. Any study, even Indie philology, is 
vocational for the person who intends to teach it, and most 
may become instrumental to one occupation or another — 
literature to the editor, philosophy to the clergyman, 
mathematics to the engineer, the history of art to the 
architect, logic to the lawyer, and so on. Conversely, such 
vocational subjects as education, banking, household chem- 
istry, and journalism may become the means of broadening 
the student's outlook upon life in true cultural fashion. 
Evidently the distinction between cultural and practical 
education depends largely upon the spirit and purpose with 
which a study is undertaken. The cultured mind pursues a 
subject for the love of it and for the resulting breadth 
of view. The practical mind studies for the sake of money, 
power, efficiency, success. Too frequently, indeed, its con- 
ception of success is narrow and selfish, but it is not 

' Cf . article on "Culture" in Cyclopedia of Education, 



56 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

necessarily so. High souled professional ambition^ eager 
to serve;, indifferent to personal gain, unselfish and philan- 
thropic, — this is far from being an unknown species of 
the "practical mind." The vocational spirit may be as 
idealistic as the spirit of culture. In fact we find the two 
ideas merging in the conception of individual perfection 
and social service. These are ideals of culture and at 
the same time practical matters. 

The college curriculum is therefore both cultural and 
vocational, liberal and practical. Its various studies lead 
to a broad acquaintance with nature and human affairs, 
and so constitute a general preparation for life, while at 
the same time they may be pursued with definitely occu- 
pational motives, and may possess great practical value. 
Some departments, no doubt, are primarily vocational; 
perhaps education is the best example. The curriculum 
as a whole, however, is predominantly cultural in char- 
acter. 

The vocational spirit deserves encouragement. In gen- 
eral the most earnest students are those who are facing 
the problem of their business in life, and conversely the 
worthless ones are for the most part those who lack a 
definite and determined ambition. There are exceptions, of 
course. The vocational idea may be nothing more than a 
whim, or a hope, or a passive expectation of an easy 
berth, in which cases it imparts no great seriousness to 
study. On the other hand there are natural scholars 
whose lifelong delight is study for study's sake.^ But for 
the majority the root of earnest endeavor is the "life 
career motive."^ It is interesting to observe the change 
which sometimes comes over a genial, happy-go-lucky fel- 

'"I have never yet met with any branch of knowledge which I 
have found unattractive — which it would not have been pleasant 
to me to follow, so far as I could go; and I have yet to meet with 
any form of art in which it has not been possible for me to 
take as acute a pleasure as, I believe, it is possible for men to 
take." Huxley. 

^ It is especially significant that those who malign the "utili- 
tarian" spirit in college education usually had a vigorous voca- 
tional purpose in their own college years. They were preparing 
themselves for some particular occupation, frequently that of 
teaching. 



THE PURPOSE OF THE COLLEGE 57 

low in his senior year^ as he realizes that sterner realities 
are approaching. Facing the future and preparing for it 
he forthwith makes a man of himself. Furthermore, col- 
lege graduates who gain distinction appear as a rule to 
have had some vocational purpose in college, though not 
always that of their subsequent pursuit. Thus the prac- 
tical spirit is justified by its children. 

Perhaps there would be less controversy over this sub- 
ject if the participants more commonly observed the 
distinction between training in a vocation and training for 
one.^ The former is the business of the technical and 
professional school, the latter may well be included in 
the purpose of the college. In other words the vocational 
ideal may be so broad that it virtually approximates the 
cultural ideal. With this understanding of terms we can 
pass the same condemnation upon the narrow mindedness 
which sees no value in fields of study aside from the path 
of practical pursuit, and upon the academic "culture" 
which fails to face man's duty in the world, or consists 
of a superficial acquaintance with literature and art. One's 
special interest is after all a part, even if a dominant 
part, of a larger experience; and it needs a background of 
intelligent familiarity with various aspects of nature and 
human life. These give it breadth of scope and usefulness, 
while on the other hand it unifies what would otherwise be 
an incoherent collection of unrelated studies. In President 
Butler's striking phrase, what the world needs and what 
the college should produce is "broad men, sharpened to a 
point."^ 

^ President Tucker points out this distinction. The Problems 
of the Historic College, Educational Review, May, 1912, pp. 
440, 441. 

^ The Meaning of Education, p. 147. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE COLLEGE CURRICULUM 

Fields of Study 

The college curriculum is descended from the so-called 
"seven liberal arts" of the medieval university, the trivium 
of grammar, rhetoric and dialectic, and the quadrivium of 
arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music. This range 
of study was of course altered and amplified in the develop- 
ment of university education, at Oxford and Cambridge as 
elsewhere. In the first American colleges, as we have 
seen, the curriculum assumed a form substantially like that 
of English university instruction in the same period. It 
comprised classical languages, philosophy and theology, a 
little history and smatterings of science. Latin was its 
official tongue, and it included much rhetorical training. 
Various motives, mostly of a practical sort, forced its 
expansion into a form corresponding to the breadth of 
contemporary learning. Modern languages, physical and 
social sciences were added while the older studies with few 
exceptions remained. The standard college curriculum of 
to-day consists of several broad fields of study which may 
be tabulated as follows: 
Mathematics 
Natural Science 
Physical Science 

Physics 

Chemistry 

Astronomy 

Geology 
Biological Science 

Botany 

Zoology 

58 



THE COLLEGE CURRICULUM 59 

Social Science 
Economics 
Political Science 
Sociology 
History- 
Language and Literature 
Ancient 
Greek 
Latin 
Modern 
English 
Romance 
Germanic 
Philosophy and Psychology 

This is of course a basic rather than a complete state- 
ment. We find in many colleges the additional fields of 
Art and Education, the latter, indeed, is now almost uni- 
versal. There are also subdivisions, extensions and com- 
binations of science, literature and history which sometimes 
appear as independent departments. Thus we might add 
to the natural sciences mechanics, mineralogy, physical 
geography, physiology and anatomy; to the social sciences 
anthropology and archeology; to the languages and litera- 
tures several others, both European and Oriental. And 
still further studies are found here and there. Colleges 
belonging to huge universities are especially prolific in 
such ramifications, since the technical and professional 
schools surrounding the college provide numerous practical 
extensions of the curriculum. 

These fields should not be thought of as sharply 
separate; they overlap and interpenetrate one another. 
Mathematics pervades astronomy and physics, biology runs 
into sociology and psychology, literature involves history 
and philosophy, and philosophy itself draws its material 
from all sources. Such titles as "astronomical physics," 
"organic chemistry," and "social psychology" show how 
different subjects blend. As a matter of departmental 
arrangement history and political science are frequently 
yoked together, as are psychology and education. Every 



60 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

subject may be studied historically, that is to say with 
reference to its development^ and all are studied more or 
less scientifically. Hence any division of the whole field 
is somewhat arbitrary, — the domain of human knowledge 
cannot be parcelled off into mutually exclusive states. It 
is rather to be regarded as an "organism/' as a living body 
every part of which is intimately related to and dependent 
upon every other part. 

Science and Appreciation 

Underlying the curriculum we discern two kinds of study 
interest, that of "science," and another which we will call, 
for want of a better name, "appreciation." By science, 
in the most general usage of the term, we mean painstak- 
ing study and the precise, systematic knowledge which re- 
sults therefrom. It is the exact description and explana- 
tion of facts. The sciences are the various "knowledges" 
of special fields or kinds of fact; they are all alike perme- 
ated with the "scientific spirit" of investigation, a relentless 
desire to know the truth. "Appreciative interest," on the 
other hand, is less exact and technical in its study of detail ; 
it is directed especially toward the ordinary affairs of 
human life — art, conduct and religion; and in consequence 
it is distinctively characterized by its sense of the esthetic, 
moral and religious value of its objects. Whereas scien- 
tific facts and laws as such are neither good nor bad, 
beautiful nor ugly, but simple are, or in other words have 
only truth, the deeds of men and the expressions of the 
human mind in literature and art have a worth to which 
we respond with all sorts of feelings and with judgments 
of approval or disapproval. The truth value of sheer 
fact is thus a somewhat separable interest from esthetic, 
ethical and religious values. The latter are matters of 
appreciation.^ 

^ This distinction is important. For further illustration com- 
pare our appreciation of Shakespeare's Hamlet with the precise 
discussion of sources, date of composition, disputed readings 
and other points of scientific interest; or our everyday senti- 
ments, vindictive and humanitarian, toward crime and poverty 
with the sociological treatment of their causes and methods of 



THE COLLEGE CURRICULUM 61 

Both interests are present throughout the curriculum 
in varying degree. The scientific interest is most obvious 
in mathematics and in the natural sciences, while the ap- 
preciative point of view prevails in the fields of literature 
and philosophy. The social sciences and history occupy 
an intermediate position. It is to be noted, however, that 
the modern study of all subjects is scientific in method, 
and that the appreciative interest may be subordinated to 
exact investigation, as when, for example, literature is 
studied in a purely philological or grammatical way, or 
inquiry is made into the mathematical and psychological 
laws of musical harmony. On the other hand scientific 
study produces its own peculiar forms of appreciation, 
though the beauty of a mathematical theorem or enthusiasm 
in dissecting a frog may not be universally felt. But 
while the two interests blend in actual study they ordi- 
narily do so in different degrees, and accordingly we find 
that the curriculum shows a twofold character.^ 

Most of our daily life, we may observe, is appreciative 
rather than scientific. In our family relations and our 
friendships, our recreations, and even to a great extent in 
our work we are not at all scientifically minded. Our ideas 
are vague and we act on a basis of feeling, habit and 
custom — likes and dislikes, affection, hope, trust and rev- 
erence. Much of the time we "live by faith," whether we 
are aware of it or not. Our wisest guidance often comes 
in the form of the great fundamental truths of human 
nature, such as we find in the literary classics of ancient 
and modern times, for example the words of Jesus, the 
sayings of Epictetus, or Emerson's Essaj^s. Most of this 
truth was discovered and set down century upon century 
ago, and the appreciative study of it is still an important 
part of our education. 

Nevertheless this is a scientific age. Not that science is 

prevention; or our uncritical religious faith with the searching 
questions now asked about origin, authority and stages of de- 
velopment. 

^ This is of course the explanation of the names "College of 
Arts and Sciences" and "College of Literature and Science," 
which some institutions have adopted in place of the ancestral 
title "College of Liberal Arts." 



62 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

wholly new^ for certain sciences, particularly astronomy 
and mathematics, are very old; and important discoveries 
have been made in several fields for thousands of years. 
But the scientific achievements of the last century, and 
indeed of the last forty years, far exceed those of all the 
preceding ages of civilization together. Nowadays there 
is no subject of human interest which is not touched by 
science. We see tliat all nature around us — the stars in 
the sky, the dew on the stone, the flower in the grass, and 
the spider that weaves its flat dwelling from stem to leaf — 
is, so to speak, living and working scientific fact and law. 
Familiar objects of every day life, such as electric cars, 
concrete buildings, steel bridges, food, clothes, books and 
all the numberless appurtenances of our civilization, are 
products of applied science. Even government, morals and 
religion are increasingly affected by scientific research. 
We cannot really understand the processes of nature or 
the works of man except in scientific terms. Our appre- 
ciative life as individuals is aided and corrected, our ad- 
vancing culture as a people is guided, by science. 

Science in the Curriculum 

Mathematics is the most exact and at the same time the 
most abstract science; it essentially consists of deductive 
reasoning by the use of symbols which represent any kind 
of magnitude or quantity. It is supremely the science of 
abstract reasoning, and as such it is naturally interesting 
to many minds. It also has conspicuous utility for certain 
branches of science, particularly astronomy, physics, me- 
chanics and the different forms of engineering; in these 
fields it gives command of the methods by which their 
special problems are solved. More generally, it bears upon 
our daily life, since it enables us to understand many 
matters of experience better than we otherwise could. Thus 
a grasp of geometry, trigonometry and calculus will give 
us a more intelligent comprehension of the approach of 
a comet, of the route of a trans-oceanic steamer, of the 
architecture of a bridge or a building, or of the basis of 
life insurance. Perhaps the subject ought to be presented 



THE COLLEGE CURRICULUM 63 

with more explicit reference to such facts of ordinary- 
experience than is usually the case. 

Mathematics is commonly supposed to afford the most 
valuable training in reasoning; indeed this is the ground 
for prescribing it as a college study. This opinion is 
largely mistaken^ however. There is no general power 
or faculty of reasoning which applies to all subjects and 
which can be abstractly trained. The form of reasoning 
always depends upon the particular kind of subject mat- 
ter; in bridge design it is of one sort, in politics it is of 
another. Accordingly mathematics is useful in training 
the mind for attacking further branches of mathematics, 
or other subjects in so far as they are mathematical in 
character; but it hardly helps us in such rational problems 
as selecting a course of study, predicting the outcome of a 
football game, dealing with a refractory child, or deciding 
how to spend one's vacation. In these difficulties what is 
needed is experience and "good judgment." It frequently, 
though not invariably happens that good mathematicians 
are successful in other, non-mathematical studies, but there 
is little evidence that one gains skill in the latter through 
increased knowledge of mathematics. This is the point 
at issue, and it is not proved by the fact that the brilliancy 
of some minds shines equally in all directions. There is 
no doubt that one may use mathematical study to discipline 
his will in patience, persistence, and other desirable quali- 
ties of character, but he may obtain the same discipline 
by the inevitable difficulties and drudgery incidental to any 
thorough pursuit. There are enough good reasons for 
studying mathematics without resorting to any questionable 
ones. 

In the natural sciences we find "scientific method" in its 
clearest and most expert form. Careful observation of 
facts and explanation of them in terms of the laws of 
nature, the use of apparatus and experiment, hypothesis, 
prediction and verification, these are the methodical prac- 
tices of modern science. Accordingly the natural sciences 
have special value in developing a scientific habit of mind.^ 

^ It must be acknowledged, however, that scientific training 
in one field does not necessarily produce a scientific attitude of 



64 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

They also have vocational significance; thus chemistry and 
biology are prerequisite for the profession of medicine. 
But no less cordial a recommendation of them^ at least 
from the standpoint of the advocate of liberal education, 
is the intelligent friendliness with nature which they give. 
The waxing and waning of the moon, the swelling of the 
buds in the spring and the deepening red and gold of 
the autumn leaf, the lonely boulder on the shore — these 
are typical items of every day experience which mean more 
to us through the study of astronomy, botany and geology. 
Probably our esthetic appreciation of them is not changed, 
but there is certainly a gain in intellectual satisfaction. 
Likewise our understanding of the works of civilization 
which surround us, the aeroplane, for example, depends 
upon our grasp of the scientific principles which underlie 
their construction. 

The peculiar interest of the social sciences is due to the 
fact that many of our most important topics of considera- 
tion to-day are problems of human society. Industrial com- 
bination, commission government, woman's suffrage, slum 
conditions, penal methods, divorce legislation, not to men- 
tion numerous other equally familiar economic, political 
and ethical matters, have become questions of profound 
concern to thoughtful citizens. In all of them we feel 
the growing insufficiency of guidance by tradition or au- 
thority, and a growing need of intellectual control. Ulti- 
mately this control can be secured only by the most thor- 
oughly scientific study of the nature and particular insti- 
tutions of society. Present iniquitous conditions are largely 
the result of ignorance, hence reform must come by en- 
lightenment. The tremendous extension of college educa- 
tion suggests the relation of the college curriculum to the 

mind in another which is different in character. The scientist 
may be full of sheer prejudice in politics or rehgion. Several 
distinguished men of science have succumbed to the deceptions 
of crude spiritualism, and the pronunciamentos of others on 
philosophical and psychological matters with which they are not 
technically acquainted are sometimes remarkably absurd. On 
the other hand, in so far as problems of physical nature are 
concerned, scientific ability may be carried over into neighboring 
fields. 



THE COLLEGE CURRICULUM 65 

problem. The thousands of graduates who annually go 
forth from college halls ought to be nearest to the solu- 
tion. Some become leaders, and all should be supporters 
of social progress. It is the function of the social sciences 
to enable us to take our part with a sound grasp of the 
laws of human nature and an intelligent view of the ideals 
of human society. 

Appreciative Studies in the Curriculum 

History is the record of human interests and achieve- 
ments, the dramatic and the commonplace deeds and de- 
sires that have made up human life. Those who study 
it not as a mere chronology of facts, but as the evolu- 
tion of great ideas and pervasive feelings, find it to be 
a most illuminating story of humanity. The aspirations, 
the conflicts, the loves and hatreds, the successes and fail- 
ures of the past are substantially like our own. Grecian 
culture, Roman conquest and decay, medieval statecraft 
and ecclesiasticism, the drama of the French revolution, 
the constitutional development of England, the political 
and industrial history of our own country, all may live 
again in our minds, or rather we may pass imaginatively 
into those times as though we were actually a part of 
them, and emerge with a better comprehension of human 
nature. It is no less true that a historical perspective 
facilitates clear vision of contemporary affairs. Thus we 
understand trusts and labor unions more sympathetically 
and critically if we know how they originated and de- 
veloped; and we form our opinions about political parties 
more wisely after contemplating their behavior in the past. 
A historical point of view, indeed, is to-day a scholarly ne- 
cessity in all fields of study. For this reason the study 
of history possibly has a measure of disciplinary value 
in that it may inculcate skill in research, justice in com- 
paring and evaluating different opinions, and a grasp 
of cause and effect in human affairs. 

The great group of languages and literatures which 
constitute departmentally about a third of the college 
curriculum have a common purpose that is twofold: 
scholarly command of the language and appreciative ac- 



66 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

quaintance with the literature. Let us note this more 
precisely with reference to its principal divisions. 

Our own language has extraordinary importance in that 
it is the instrument by which we pursue study in all de- 
partments. Moreover in all our social intercourse, in con- 
versation, in correspondence and in formal publication 
our use of English is an index of our education. The or- 
dinary lack of command of it affords more reason for re- 
quiring study and practice than exists in the case of any 
other subjects in the curriculum, though it must be ac- 
knowledged that the need is mainl}^ that of regular practice 
in oral speaking. We understand that training in writ- 
ing good English is needed for the sake of its use in 
other studies, but we sometimes fail to see that training in 
correct speaking is even more desirable for the same rea- 
son. Formal "elocution" — that noisy and childish rela- 
tive of higher education — should be replaced by reading 
aloud, and by practice in plain, simple oral address.* In- 
cidentally better writing will result. 

English literature is the great storehouse of the best 
ideas and sentiments of the race. Essay and drama, fic- 
tion and poetry, biography and travel are the written em- 
bodiment of men's experiences, yes, of men's souls. They 
touch all phases of nature and human life and may have 
profound influence upon the personality of the student. 
From them come wisdom, broad philosophical ideas, and 
refined mental recreation. Perhaps the strongest recom- 
mendation that can be made for gaining a scholarly ac- 
quaintance with English literature is that it is the founda- 
tion of lifelong enjoyment; no other pursuit brings such 
unfailing resources for cultivation in later years. The 
least that may be expected as a result is a permanent su- 
periority to the cheap superficialities of the sensational 
press, the florid magazine, and the vapid brilliancy of many 

* But let us beware of the hypersensitiveness to errors of gram- 
mar and pronunciation which feels it a pious duty to set friends 
and relatives right in insignificant matters. One who is affected 
with such critical tension needs to be reminded that the content 
of speech is more important than is the form, that healthy ideas 
may lack trained expression, and that the most lovable quaUties 
of human nature bear no essential relation to rhetoric. 



THE COLLEGE CURRICULUM 67 

a "best seller." 

Passing now to the field of foreign language, let us re- 
call the general purposes of study — command of the lan- 
guage and acquaintance with the literature. The value of 
the latter is clear. A friendship with the world's great 
classics in other tongues needs no elaborate recommenda- 
tion; it is well to gain this through the medium of Eng- 
lish if not in their original form. The elementary study 
of language, however, should precede the college course. 
The earlier years are more favorable for acquiring cor- 
rect pronunciation and for such memorizing as is neces- 
sary. Moreover, college study should be maturer in 
method and in ideas than is possible in the case of ele- 
mentary language. To spend a large amount of time 
upon the latter is to retard one's intellectual maturity. If, 
however, one finds it necessary to begin a foreign lan- 
guage in college it is reasonable to expect him to apply 
more advanced powers of study to it, and thereby to ac- 
complish the elementary work in a third to a half of the 
time taken in the secondary school.^ 

In the case of the ancient languages an especially acute 
problem presents itself. A preparatory knowledge of 
Greek is rare among students coming to college, and few 
acquire it after entering, hence there is danger of a com- 
plete loss of interest in Grecian culture as a part of the 
curriculum. This is unfortunate, for many roots of our 
own civilization are found in ancient Greece, and the 
achievements of this wonderful people in art and litera- 

" It is quite possible by earnest effort to acquire ability to read 
a foreign language within a year. The ordinary waste of time 
in obtaining only a smattering by toiling painfully through a few 
pages of simple French or German is a disgrace to higher educa- 
tion. Not infrequently it happens that after a year of instruc- 
tion the student has no oral command whatever, and is nearly 
helpless before a page of a foreign newspaper or an article in a 
scientific journal. He "passes" without any considerable fund 
of ideas or discipline of intelligence. Incidentally we may note 
that the fundamental lack is often that of ability to speak. 
Language is primarily a means of oral communication; the normal 
method of learning it is that of talking and hstening. A "read- 
ing knowledge" depends, to a much greater extent than is com- 
monly supposed, upon oral training. 



68 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

ture are the best that the world has known. The only 
preventive of further disappearance seems to be the pre- 
sentation of Greek culture in English. This has already 
been done with regard to Hebrew. The language has long 
since been abandoned as a college pursuit, but the study 
of the Bible and of the development of the Hebrew peo- 
ple increases in extent and in seriousness. Possibly the 
Greek classics, Homer and Sophocles and Demosthenes, 
for example, can be presented successfully in the same 
way, even though they cannot be compressed into a single 
volume and clothed with the sanctity of religion. Cer- 
tainly it is important that the study of this historic period 
of civilization should not disappear from the curriculum. 
Much the same considerations apply to Roman culture. 
The deeds and thoughts, the stern prose and the poetic 
feeling of Caesar, Virgil, Cicero, and Horace are decidedly 
worth our acquaintance. They may be adequately pre- 
sented in translation, and the relief from the slow and 
imperfect efforts of the inept translator will give time 
for broader and more valuable study of the Roman people. 
In the case of Latin, however, good reasons for studying 
the language are found in its relation to modern languages, 
particularly our own. Latin grammar reveals the struc- 
tural principles of language; and root words, through their 
innumerable derivatives, enlarge one's vocabulary and ren- 
der it more precise. The student of the "Romance" lan- 
guages invariably finds Latin of great assistance, and there 
can be no doubt that it has formed a basis for many a 
notable literary "style." As a disciplinary study, apart 
from the relations just indicated, its value is largely fic- 
titious; like mathematics it fails to afford discipline ex- 
cept to those who do not need it. Latin, or speaking more 
broadly, Roman civilization, is quite dignified enough to 
deserve study for its own sake. Perhaps classes will have 
fewer students, but their intelligent appreciation will com- 
pensate for loss of numbers. 

Finally, the college curriculum includes studies which 
deal with the nature of the universe as a whole, and with 
the human self in relation to it. This is the field of 
philosophy. Idealism, materialism, agnosticism, evolution- 



THE COLLEGE CURRICULUM 69 

ism are some of the more familiar terms indicating philo- 
sophic world views. Through its breadth of scope phi- 
losophy serves to show the relations of different fields of 
knowledge to one another, and to organize them into a 
unitary whole. Here also we find the exact study of mind, 
and the consideration of moral and religious interests. Col- 
lege students instinctively desire, as reflective mankind has 
always desired, to understand themselves and the world 
order around them. A thoughtful religious belief, sane, 
charitable toward differing opinion, and devoted to duty, 
may be regarded as one of the highest accomplishments 
of higher education. Such a belief it is the business of 
philosophy to cultivate. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE INDIVIDUAL PLAN OF STUDY 

Required Studies 

From the scores or even hundreds of courses consti- 
tuting the college curriculum the student takes a few, 
perhaps twenty or thirty at the most. He can undertake 
so little, and he must perforce leave so much untouched, 
that both he and the college authorities face the ques- 
tion. How may the selection best be made? To this ques- 
tion the general answer of American colleges is a combina- 
tion of certain required studies with others chosen by the 
student himself. The current controversy on the subject 
concerns the relative merits and the proper amounts of 
such prescribed and elective features. Let us see if we 
can resolve the jangling voices into harmony. 

The positive arguments for required studies are mainly 
two. In the first place it is held that there are certain 
subjects which are essential to a liberal education, sub- 
jects which it is the special business of the college to 
teach, and which the college graduate ought to understand. 
Secondly, the discipline of required study is regarded as 
valuable, both in the way of training the intellectual pow- 
ers, and in the formation of sturdy character by habits of 
attacking unpleasant tasks resolutely, and forcing one's 
way through drudgery with patience. According to this 
theory the student thus equipped with a broad range of 
information and with a disciplined will and intelligence 
goes forth into society an educated man or woman. 

These arguments are rejected by many as inconclusive. 
Just what are the essentials of a liberal education, they 
reply, it is impossible to say, since educational authorities 
differ in theory with regard to the relative value of dif- 

70 



THE INDIVIDUAL PLAN OF STUDY 71 

ferent subjects, and college faculties vary widely in their 
practice of making requirements.^ In view of the vast 
extension of modern knowledge the studies which have tra- 
ditionally been prescribed seem now to have less impor- 
tance; it is absurd to suppose that mathematics, Latin and 
philosophy are more indispensable to education than eco- 
nomics, history, biology and other subjects. But as soon 
as we try to embrace all modern learning in a prescribed 
scheme, we find the task hopeless. Required study of the 
elementary matters would prevent advanced study, and the 
college would have to abandon nine tenths of its varied 
teaching. Moreover we must acknowledge that not all 
students need the same prescription. Natural aptitudes 
and deliberate purposes certainly deserve respect. One 
student will obtain from general reading what another 
should study in a more regular way. Differences of in- 
tellectual maturity likewise suggest appropriate differ- 
ences of treatment. And finally we must distinguish be- 
tween prescribing a study, for example English literature, 
and prescribing a particular course which happens to be 
given under that title. What atrocious pedagogy has some- 
times been forced upon helpless youth in the name of cul- 
ture! It is no great exaggeration to say that the internal 
conditions of a required course are usually so unfavorable 
that a majority of students emerge with no more com- 
mand of the subject than they might have obtained in a 
few hours of real study. 

Nor is the alleged disciplinary value acknowledged. 
The idea of general intellectual discipline, it is said, is 
so weakened by current criticism that we can hardly base 
a system of requirements upon it; there are no subjects 

^ In the partly required, partly elective curricula, as found in 
colleges all over the country, striking differences appear. In a 
few instances English composition is the only requirement; in 
others considerably more than half the entire course is pre- 
scribed. The particular prescription varies, however, and in gen- 
eral fails to reveal clear principles. Often it is a compromise 
between deference to educational traditions and the demands of 
modern educational advances. For illustrations of such dis- 
crepancies see Foster, Administration of the College Curriculum, 
Ch. IX. 



72 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

which train the memory or the reason for general appli- 
cation. And the discipline of the will, though quite pos- 
sible, may be obtained equally well in other subjects. As 
a matter of fact, prescribed courses do not produce satis- 
factory results in this respect; they are very frequently 
the accepted ground for shirking, subterfuge, and even 
dishonesty. On account of the unwieldy size of classes, 
the discouragement of overworked teachers, and the con- 
stant competition of more interesting matters, they tend 
to become futile, farcical, harmful. Thus the negative. 

Whatever the merits of this debate, the tendency of 
the times is clear. A particular course of study of the 
English language is usually prescribed, perhaps by reason 
of the universal use of English throughout the curriculum, 
and the ordinary lack of exact and fluent command of it. 
Apart from this, however, particular prescriptions are 
frustrated by difference of opinion as to what to pre- 
scribe, and in consequence are giving way to a more gen- 
eral requirement that the student shall gain acquaintance 
with a few broad fields of knowledge. Graduation is ac- 
cordingly conditioned upon the study of literature, nat- 
ural science, social science, and perhaps other subjects; 
but the precise direction and extent of study in each of 
these fields remains a matter of the student's choice. 

The Elective System 

The modern college curriculum is predominantly elec- 
tive.^ The principal reasons for this are the following: 
(1) The growth of the curriculum has made some kind 
of individual choice of its offerings necessary. There is 
an overwhelming number of subjects, all really worth 
studying; modern knowledge, especially in scientific form, 
has multiplied its riches tremendously, A single depart- 
ment may offer twenty to thirty courses — enough to oc- 
cupy the entire time of a student for five or six years. 
In many cases the total of possibilities afforded by the 

^ In application the elective system is necessarily limited not 
only by conflicts of hours and other extraneous conditions, but also 
by the dependence of advanced courses upon earlier ones. The 
actual freedom of the student is less than is sometimes supposed. 



THE INDIVIDUAL PLAN OF STUDY 73 

college amounts to a century or more of study at the 
usual rate of fifteen hours of class exercise per week. 
These subjects are for the most part so related to con- 
temporary life, directly or indirectly, that they are prop- 
erly m.atters of collegiate instruction. How is this in- 
struction possible except through the elective system? (2) 
The student knows best what, and with whom, he needs 
to study. If a course is really valuable he will gladly 
elect it if he can, for students keenly appreciate courses 
which are genuinely educative. Moreover, it is of great 
importance for one to have the opportunity to select his 
instructors, since the inspiration to real study often comes 
from the instructor's personality quite as much as from 
the contents of the course. (3) Most persons devote them- 
selves more earnestly and successfully to matters of their 
own choosing than to what is prescribed, partly because 
they have a conscious purpose in the former case which is 
likely to be lacking in the latter, partly because the pe- 
culiarly unpleasant atmosphere of compulsion produces an 
infection of resistance. Scholarly persistency and thor- 
oughness develop spontaneously from within; they can- 
not be forcibly impressed from without. (4) On all these 
grounds the elective system affords a training in free- 
dom, and this is an educational accomplishment of the 
highest importance. It is the business of the college to 
enable the individual to guide himself; he cannot achieve 
this except by actual practice. Of course the regime of 
freedom implies the possibility of mistake and abuse, but 
on the whole it justifies itself in its human products. 

On the other hand we find numerous antagonists of 
the elective systems urging these objections. (1) It is 
not a "system" at all. In application it lacks unity; it 
encourages the selection of subjects which are unrelated 
to one another or to any central purpose. The student 
registers for English Literature 4 because his adviser 
suggests it, avoids Chemistry 9 because it meets at four 
o'clock in the afternoon, gravitates toward History 13 be- 
cause of the instructor's propensity for telling stories, and 
in his senior year joins the goodly company in Art 1 for 
the sake of its cultural value and lack of hard work. He 



74 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

finally graduates with a few scraps of information but 
without proficiency in anything or a broad knowledge of 
the main fields of study. (2) The elective system fosters 
"snap courses" and corresponding habits of negligence. 
The many loafers who look for lines of least resistance 
not only find them, but naturally communicate their atti- 
tude to other students, thereby lowering further the stand- 
ard of scholarship in particular courses and in the college 
at large. (3) Among seriously minded persons the elec- 
tive system makes for specialization and vocational tech- 
nique rather than for breadth. It permits one to ignore 
subjects which belong to liberal culture, while it encour- 
ages premature intensiveness. One selects what he thinks 
he needs in preparation for medicine or business and 
passes by whole fields of rich human interest without a 
glance; or perhaps he pursues some narrow path of 
scholarship year after year until he has taken eight or 
ten courses in chemistry but no literature, or has devoted 
himself so exclusively to philosophy or history that he has 
never even visited a scientific laboratory. Instructors, it 
is said, take advantage of the special interest of the few 
to present their subjects after the fashion of profound and 
recondite scholarship, not in a broadly educative way. Ac- 
cordingly the elective system points toward the graduate 
or professional school, not toward life. 

So runs the debate. In general, however, the elective 
system may be regarded as firmly established — mainly for 
the reason that it affords the only rational solution of the 
problem of opening the wide range of modern learning to 
the college student, and of meeting the variety of indi- 
vidual needs, purposes and abilities. Expansion of the cur- 
riculum has made the principle of free choice indispen- 
sable. Undoubtedly this principle has been abused, and 
possibly it needs to be limited by a few broad require- 
ments which will serve to prevent such abuse, but on the 
whole, like freedom in political life and in religion, it has 
justified itself. Particular choices could often be improved, 
but no set of particular requirements would improve the 
total working of the elective system. For the majority 
there is no surer guidance than their own deliberate re- 



THE INDIVIDUAL PLAN OF STUDY 75 

flection.^ 

This is not to deny that a serious difficulty confronts 
the student in choosing his courses. The elective system 
presupposes that he knows what he needs, and whether 
a particular course will prove satisfactory; but unfor- 
tunately both conditions are sometimes lacking, and in 
consequence there are mistakes and waste of time, not to 
mention deliberate abuse of opportunities. How may 
these evils be avoided, and choice be made intelligent and 
fruitful .J* 

Right guidance is found in one's natural and acquired in- 
terests, in vocational purposes, in the stimulating influence 
of an instructor, in catalog statements about courses, in 
the counsel of an official or unofficial adviser, and most 
importantly in the reputation of a course among older stu- 
dents. Two things are requisite: the college must give 
all the information it can, and the student must confront 
the problem thoughtfully. In general these conditions are 
sufficient. If, nevertheless, some blunder along in a way- 
ward, pointless fashion, the fault is not that of the elec- 
tive system.* 

^Much of the current criticism of the elective system is 
strangely superficial. It ignores the fact that the historical de- 
velopment of the curriculum has burst all restricting bounds. 
It calmly assumes that requirements work successfully, in de- 
fiance of the fact that required studies display most of the 
evils of electives in addition to some that are distinctly their own. 
It ignores the statistical inquiries which show that as a rule the 
student chooses his subjects with reasonable breadth and earnest 
purpose. It exhibits the chronic vice of criticism, exclusive atten- 
tion to exceptional cases. It overlooks the huge classes, the poor 
instruction, the lack of personal direction, the competing interests 
outside of study, and all the other causes of shirking and failure, 
and blames, not these external conditions or the administration 
which tolerates them, but the elective system. And in conclusion 
it is absurdly unable to say precisely what should replace this. 

* A very commendable practice is that of having instructors 
give general lectures about their respective fields. I recall one 
such series of addresses in which members of the faculty spoke 
helpfully concerning the problems of psychology, the relation 
of sociology to advancing civilization, the practical significance 
of the study of education, the peculiar interests of mathematics 
and zoology and philosophy and literature. In addition to the 



•76 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

As a matter of fact, students are fairly judicious. Ca- 
pricious election is relatively rare.^ The opportunities 
are clearly too important to be treated lightly; and ac- 
cordingly the majority survey the field deliberately, and 
proceed with reference to purposes which are on the whole 
wise. The principal mistakes are the failure to appreciate 
the value of a broad, well rounded education, and an in- 
difference to unfamiliar subjects. In some there is exces- 
sive specialization, in others an excessive scattering of 
energies in superficial excursions into many departments. 
For the avoidance of these errors, as we have said, gen- 
eral requirements are possibly needed. 

Breadth and Specialization 

Higher education ideally consists in an intelligent ac- 
quaintance with the various fields of modern culture, and 
a more thoroughly mastery of some one of them. These 
requisites are so important that many colleges make them 
conditions for graduation.® In any case the individual plan 
of study ought to include them, and by reason of the 
student's good sense it usually does. Let us consider them 
a little more fully. 

information, there was also the obvious advantage of making the 
acquaintance of the instructor. 

^ Of 1,757 selections of courses in Harvard College, according 
to the report of an investigating committee, only one sixth proved 
wholly or partially unsatisfactory in the subsequent judgment of 
those who made the choices, and the cases of dissatisfaction were 
found mostly among the poor scholars. (Report of the Com- 
mittee on Improving Instruction in Harvard College. Birdseye, 
Individual Training in Our Colleges, p. 398.) 

® In order to secure these conditions of breadth and intensive- 
ness, colleges formerly arranged various combinations of partic- 
ular subjects which they designated the "Classical Course," the 
"English Course," the "Scientific Course," and the like. In each 
of these, as the name indicates, a certain type of study interest 
was dominant, and there was also a prescribed variety. This 
form of "group system" was not successful. The rigidity of 
the groups had to give way to individual exceptions and accord- 
ingly their boundary lines were obliterated. A more effective 
method of regulation is that of the "major study," and the re- 
quired distribution of electives over several groups of depart- 
ments. 



THE INDIVIDUAL PLAN OF STUDY 77 

The curriculum naturally falls into a few grand divi- 
sions, somewhat as we have indicated in the preceding 
chapter. Mathematics, natural science, social science, his- 
tory, literature and philosophy, these are the main intel- 
lectual interests of our civilization. Without some knowl- 
edge of them, education is not "liberal." Within each 
field one may choose at will physics or chemistry, economics 
or political science, one literature or another. Many 
fundamental ideas and methods of study may be obtained 
in one subordinate department as well as in another, and 
the student is sure to find pathways from his chosen field 
opening into adjacent ones. But every one should study 
some part of nature scientifically; every one should learn 
to look upon society as embodying great natural laws; 
every one should acquire a historical point of view and 
perspective; every one should cultivate an appreciation of 
good literature, with its burden of esthetic, philosophical, 
moral and religious treasures of the mind. These studies 
are not merely valuable in themselves; they are valuable 
as aids in other study. Thus history gives the student a 
broader view of literature, and philosophy reveals the sig- 
nificance of biological and sociological problems. For this 
reason it is worth while to carry concurrently courses 
which represent several different fields. 

A casual warning against "scattering" is appropriate, 
however. I remember earnest persons who tried to touch 
all fields, and hence elected so many elementary courses 
as to prevent advanced study in any subject. Here, they 
thought, was their last opportunity to "get a start"; with 
this they could go further at their leisure. But their 
motive, though intelligible, had only a specious worth. 
One does not need to undertake so many kinds of ele- 
mentary study. With well trained powers it is possible 
to master not only the elements of a subject but a good 
deal more in less time than that of a college course, — if, 
that is to say, one has time and interest for such study in 
later life. If not, the elementary study will prove to be 
of little value; most of its details and technique slip easily 
away from the mind unless followed up. It is better, 
therefore, to go more deeply into a few subjects. Their 



78 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

conceptions and methods will enable us to enter new fields, 
either in the way of systematic study or in general read- 
ing. 

Breadth of vision, without superficiality, is thus a qual- 
ity of mind at which the user of the elective system 
should aim. But equally important is the intensive culti- 
vation of some one study interest, the concentration upon 
a "major study." This essentially implies a scholarly 
grasp of a subject, not only of its elements and leading 
ramifications, but of some advanced branch; in mathe- 
matics, for example, such advanced work would include 
certain extensions and applications of the calculus, in liter- 
ature a thorough study of one writer or of a particular 
period of literary development, in science the understand- 
ing or perhaps even the prosecution of some research, in 
philosophy a course in metaphysics, and so on. It may 
be confined to a single department, or range more widely 
over adjoining fields. In amount the major ordinarily 
varies from a third to a sixth of the entire course. 

The value of such intensive or concentrated study is 
proved by^ the common testimony of students that their 
major was the most satisfactory feature of their whole 
course. It prevented desultory scattering of interest and 
the dissipation of intellectual energy over a wide but shal- 
low extent of elementary studies; and it formed a kind of 
backbone for organic educational development. They dis- 
covered that other subjects really bore upon it, and that 
it in turn gave new meaning to them. It was like a tower 
from which they could survey the whole domain of human 
knowledge. Moreover it afforded training in thorough, 
masterful work. The subject itself might be useful — 
English to the journalist, philosophy to the clergyman, 
economics to the man of business, and any subject to the 
teacher — but quite as important was the method and habit 
of patient study. It is a striking fact that success in 
life comes for the most part to those who have distin- 
guished themselves in college by concentrated study in some 
chosen field. This was not always in the line of their 
later work; indeed there is ground for thinking that apart 
from a certain saving of time it does not make mucli 



THE INDIVIDUAL PLAN OF STUDY 79 

difference what subject is chosen for a major. Men of 
diverse callings have concentrated their attention in col- 
lege upon the same subject, and conversely men of the 
same profession have specialized in fields as far apart as 
biology and Greek. The significant acquisition was the 
intensive method, the ability to investigate a matter, and 
the resulting consciousness of power. 

Undergraduate specialization involves a real danger, 
however. It is impossible to devote oneself thoroughly to 
anything without relatively neglecting other things; and 
such neglect, in the case of college study, may become al- 
together too complete. One tends to become oblivious to 
other responsibilities and justifies himself on the ground 
that his interest is in his major. He may even make his 
college course almost exclusively a study in one depart- 
ment, and graduate with immense ignorance of others. "^ 
We should remember that specialization as such produces 
only specialists, that breadth of interest and information 
is very desirable as a background of specialization, and 
that specialists of the first rank are usually men of such 
breadth. The college is the only institution of higher edu- 
cation which educates broadly. In a way this is its main 
purpose, which it fulfils both for the sake of breadth of 
mind and for the power which this adds to specialization. 
The importance and fascination of the major ought not 
to obscure this fact. 

' The ideal of a liberal education constantly faces two main 
forms of hypertrophied specialization — social and athletic spe- 
cialization outside the curriculum, vocational specialization within. 
The latter includes the undergraduate specialization in problems 
of research conducted by enthusiastic instructors who are them- 
selves research specialists. Under the elective system the college 
does not force a liberal education upon the student; he must 
win it for himself. 



CHAPTER VIII 

GENERAL CONDITIONS OF STUDY 

Amount 

Critics of the college^ both without and within its walls, 
charge that there is altogether too little study in its daily 
life. On the other hand there are defenders who hold that 
college students study quite as much as is good for them; — 
most of the students themselves are probably of this mind ! 
Just what, rationally considered, is the proper amount of 
study ? 

College teachers have a common opinion that an hour 
of class work ought to require two hours of preparatory 
or supplementary study. This is regarded, of course, as 
a standard or good average. It is acknowledged that 
students vary in study power; one spends only half an 
hour on a task which occupies another two or three hours 
apparently without greater gain. But such individual dif- 
ferences, it is held, do not invalidate the above rule as the 
one to which in general the student should conform. If, as 
is usual, he takes courses amounting to fifteen hours a 
week, his total study time including class periods is forty- 
five hours, or an average of seven and a half hours a day 
for six days. The customary practice is scientific courses 
which involve laboratory work increases the time required. 
If Saturday is used partially or wholly for other purposes 
the deficiency must be made up on Sunday or the daily 
schedule lengtliened to nine or ten hours. ^ 

Stated in figures such an expectation may seem reason- 
able, and in fact it is m.et by occasional hard working 

^Substantially this conchision is reached by Canfield (The Col- 
lege Student and his Problems, pp. 73, 74) and Adams (Making 
the Most of One's Mind, p. 40). 

80 



GENERAL CONDITIONS OF STUDY 81 

persons who regularly devote ten hours a day to study. 
But such a diligent routine is rare. It is far indeed from 
being the usual practice of college students. Investiga- 
tion of the actual study habits shows conclusively that 
the amount of time spent on a course outside the classroom 
averages hardly more than the number of class hours. 
"Hour for hour" seems to be the general rule.^ 

Nor is it difficult to see why there is so little. There 
is commonly a lack of clear purpose in life, and conse- 
quently of a constant feeling that one must study in 
order to succeed. In addition, the complex character of 
college life with its incessant distractions, its diversified 
opportunities for physical and mental recreation, its lec- 
tures, social gatherings, musical and dramatic entertain- 
ments, and the like, militates strongly against high stand- 
ards of study. Furthermore the size of classes, the lec- 
ture method, the impossibility of conducting recitations or 
of reading hundreds of written pages, and the instructor's 
devotion to his own study interests, all tend to lessen the 
student's sense of responsibility. He acquires a com- 
fortable assurance that he does not really need to spend 
a great deal of time in preparation for classes. An occa- 
sional glance at a book and a few hours of cramming just 
before an examination serve the purpose of passing the 
course as well as a semester of steady labor. 

Faculty expectation and student performance are thus 
far apart. Is the discrepancy to be removed simply by 
requiring more study .^ Partly, no doubt. Precisely this is 
taking place in many colleges at the present time. Higher 
standards and improved methods are replacing those which 
have given cause for criticism, and the result is that the 
college is a more studious place than formerly. 

^ Such was the result of an inquiry at Harvard College a few 
years ago, and there is no reason for supposing the condition to 
be extraordinary. (See Birdseye, Individual Training in Our 
Colleges, Appendix VIII.) The writer once secured from seventy 
students detailed statements of their actual study hours for a 
period of two weeks. They regarded themselves, and were re- 
garded by their instructors as exceptionally industrious, but their 
figures showed a general average only slightly in excess of the 
number of class hours. 



82 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

The theoretical standard indicated above is not likely 
to be reached^ however. As a daily average it is probably 
excessive. Assuming that "study" means genuine intel- 
lectual effort^ we must acknowledge the fact that eight 
to ten hours of it are so taxing and wearing as to be 
dangerous to health. In particular, the strain upon the 
eyes, the attention, and the associative mechanism of the 
brain is likely to produce nervous instability. Most stu- 
dents naturally obey their health instincts in this matter 
and stop before the point of mental overwork is reached, 
but the cases of nervous breakdown, though infrequent, 
nevertheless constitute a warning of what would happen 
more often if the theory in question were actually prac- 
ticed. 

Furthermore, the theory is incompatible with the interest 
of the college in other matters than courses of study. Not 
only athletics, but also literary and debating societies, dra- 
matics, musical clubs and many similar organizations would 
languish. Some critics will say of course that this is de- 
voutly to be wished, but most of us would regard the 
demise of these interests as unfortunate. Obviously, too, 
the possibility of outside work, upon which a large per- 
centage of students depends in some measure for support, 
would be seriously curtailed. 

Undoubtedly college students ought to study more than 
they do, but the main defect is in quality rather than in 
quantity. The need is not so much for more hours of 
study as for better mental habits, for trained minds which 
can attack a study task skillfully, proceed through it 
with a minimum of wasted time and effort, and then turn 
to something else. With such ability six to eight hours 
of study should be sufficient. 

Let us observe, however, that this point of view sig- 
nifies real intellectual concentration. In the classroom 
it means persistent attention to the subject of the hour, 
steady note-taking or thought and discussion — not mere 
superficial listening to a lecture or mind-wandering in pas- 
sive resignation to a tedious lapse of time. In private 
study it likewise means concentration upon book or essay 
or apparatus — not dawdling over these, or gazing out of 



GENERAL CONDITIONS OF STUDY 83 

the window, or sitting with three friends at a table and 
alternating short periods of half attentive reading with 
animated conversation about current athletic and social 
affairs. The hardest thing for many of us to do is to 
stick patiently to an intellectual task. On the other hand 
study does not mean pegging away, dully and hopelessly, 
when the tired brain refuses to work. That is the time 
for rest — a few minutes intermission, an hour of physical 
exercise, an evening at the theater or a sound night's 
sleep. 

An extension of our problem presents itself with regard 
to the distribution of our time among our studies. Do 
they deserve equal periods, or is it better to devote a dis- 
proportionate amount to one, even though this involves 
relative neglect of others? In my opinion the latter alter- 
native is the wiser, provided of course that we do not 
neglect any subject to the point of failure. Concentration 
of energy is so important as a matter of training, skill 
in intensive study is so indispensable to the professional 
worker, that we ought to make it our first rule to do some- 
thing thoroughly — to do it just as well as we can. Select- 
ing that subject which is most interesting, or prospectively 
most profitable, or it may be most difficult for us, we 
should proceed to master it. If our natural gifts are such 
as to bring A's in all subjects, so much the better; in 
any case let us try to do A grade work in something. 
The second rule is of course to work hard enough in every 
subject to derive some real advantage from it. 

We must not leave this topic without reminding ourselves 
of the warning fact that for many walks of life to which 
college education leads it is no longer the royal road. 
Not only the technical and professional schools which do 
not require collegiate preparation, but also a tremendous 
growth of evening and correspondence schools have brought 
into the field of competition thousands of earnest students 
many of whom are daily adding to the labor by which they 
earn their bread several hours of successful study. Some, 
indeed, are spending more time in study than the average 
college student, and against heavy odds are advancing 
themselves in a way which puts the college loafer to 



84 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

shame. The hard headed, unsentimental world, which 
does not respect a college education except upon grounds 
of efficiency, is likely to pay little attention to the varnish 
of culture and much to the solid substance of trained 
ability.^ 

Regularity 

One of the busiest students I have known — and one of 
the happiest — had a daily schedule almost as precise as 
that of a railroad train. Occasionally she found herself 
compelled to divide a part of her time into fifteen minute 
periods, each of which had its particular occupation. 
Work and play, classes, chapel, committee meetings, secre- 
tarial duties, fun and frolic flowed by in a steady stream. 
The amount of work she accomplished was no less remark- 
able than her capacity for recreation; she was an extraor- 
dinary illustration of the value of a well regulated life. 

Regularity is important for several reasons — in the first 
place because it enables us to do a great deal more than 
we otherwise would. A multitude of things to do is likely 
to result in nothing done. We contemplate them in dis- 
tress or pass from one to another in futile effort to take 
hold anywhere. Whatever is distasteful in tasks appears 
much more forbidding if there is no compelling now to 
force a beginning. We worry over the fact that we are 
not doing anything, and thereby make it all the harder to 
begin, for worry is misdirected attention and wasted energy. 
We tire out the will by spasmodic attempts to make up 
our mind to do something, just as we exhaust ourselves 
physically by misapplied muscular strain. Routine, on the 
other hand, is economy of intellectual and volitional effort. 
A definite hour for a task helps to make it possible, and 
the irksomeness of beginning drudgery quickly yields to 
methodical attack. Having overcome our initial inertia 
by force of habit we accomplish more, suffer less nervous 
wear and tear, have more time for play, and increase our 
general happiness. 

^ For facts concerning the development of correspondence 
schools see Birdseye, Individual Training in Our Colleges, Ch. 
XXI. 



GENERAL CONDITIONS OF STUDY 85 

How indispensable the principle of regularity is in the 
industrial world every one knows. There, indeed, most 
tasks are made matters of routine to the point of extreme 
monotony. One great danger incidental to the development 
of industry is that its processes shall be so subdivided and 
drearily repeated that the worker becomes a mere machine. 
There is no danger of this extreme in college life, however ; 
here matters are so varied and elastic that irregularity is 
almost inevitable, and the main difficulty is that of estab- 
lishing any definite schedule at all.^ 

But routine is not an agreeable thought to our unreflec- 
tive selves; we are likely to prefer a more spontaneous 
method of procedure. It is true, too, that in some fields 
we find great works accomplished by fits of inspiration and 
bursts of energy. This is the irregular practice of genius — 
Wait for the right moment and then work! — and it is 
dramatically fascinating. But its feasibility is largely 
confined to the field of art, and even here it is not the 
whole story. The general rule for the student is of a 
different sort. Our efficiency depends upon making out a 
schedule and sticking to it as closely as possible, certainly 
not in postponing duties until the eleventh hour. The 
kind of inspiration which comes on the night before a 
thesis is due not likely to be so valuable as the ideas 
we form when we undertake it in a more deliberate way. 
I know that in my own case the days in which I accomplish 
most are those in which I work according to schedule, and 
that they are also the most satisfactory days. Is it not a 
fact, too, that the graduates of technical and professional 
schools owe their superior efficiency in part to methodical 
habits of work, habits imposed upon themselves under 
penalty of failure? 

But our difficulty may be, not a lack of appreciation 
of the value of regularity, but skill in establishing it in 
our lives. We know that we do not have too much to do, 
if we could only hit upon a working method. But our 
efforts have not been crowned with success. Perhaps we 
are not naturally inclined to work in such a fashion, and 

* "Routine," says Philhps Brooks, "is a terrible master, but she 
is a servant whom we can hardly do without." 



86 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

it is easily possible to experiment in a way that is fore- 
doomed to failure. Accordingly one who is trying to 
regulate his time more efficiently does well to bear certain 
principles in mind. 

The fundamental requisite is that we should definitely 
set hours for the most necessary or important matters, 
let us say three or four main periods of study and recrea- 
tion in addition to appointed classes. As a general rule 
about three hours in the morning and shorter periods in 
the afternoon and evening ought to be expressly devoted 
to study and class work. Many of us find the morning 
hours more favorable to certain kinds of study, whereas 
if we postpone such tasks they take much longer. It is 
of course especially wise not to defer all study until the 
evening. When mental weariness increases or gaiety 
beckons, hope looms large that shrewdness or luck may 
avoid disaster next day, and the end is that one says 
"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," and goes to 
bed. It is astonishing, too, how much we can accomplish 
by takings things in time and under the most propitious 
conditions. They "get done" with automatic regularity, 
leaving plenty of opportunity for recreation. Hence the 
best plan is to make a schedule, perhaps for a single day 
at a time, comprising a few principal features, and stick 
to it unless something really important intervenes. 

A common experience is that of formulating an exact 
schedule for a whole day from rising to bedtime, and 
learning speedily that human affairs cannot proceed with 
such precision. A particular task obstinately stretches 
itself over time which does not belong to it, an unexpected 
matter claims our attention, street cars are late, or what 
not, and the whole system goes awry. Routine appears 
impossible, and we fall back into our old ways. Hence 
it is wise to provide for contingencies by simply laying 
out the main divisions of our time in accordance with our 
most important duties, thereby leaving "margins" for 
unavoidable delays. Little and relatively unimportant 
things must fit in where they can. It is especially unwise 
to try to do the little things first; they use up so much 
energy that the bigger ones are likely to remain undone. 



GENERAL CONDITIONS OF STUDY 87 

Resoluteness is at least as important a factor of success 
as is skill in arrangement. Wherever one spends his study 
hours, at home or in a dormitory or elsewhere, there are 
sure to be interruptions, interferences and distractions. One 
must accustom himself to working steadily in spite of 
these; and particularly one must learn to withstand the 
temptation to indulge at all times in conversational good 
fellowship — the friendly loafing which is distinctly worth 
while, but not in study hours. Regularity often requires 
sheer will power. Periods of study, set and supervised by 
school authorities, do not exist in college, and it is better 
that they should not. The problem is essentially one for 
the student to solve for himself. Fraternities and dormi- 
tory groups may lessen the difficulty by establishing house 
rules, so that intruders may be firmly repelled or dispas- 
sionately thrown out, but generally speaking the individual 
must make his own rules, and insist upon observance. The 
ability to stick to one's schedule is a test of strong char- 
acter. 

Any schedule must be more or less elastic, however. 
Interferences will occur, and no matter how methodical we 
try to be, we shall find ourselves obliged to make occasional 
exceptions. Skill in doing this without abandoning the 
main lines of our purpose or breaking up regular habits 
is a part of the task. Nevertheless we may learn to fit 
our affairs into an orderly sequence when all the forces 
of college life seem to conspire for its disruption. 

Freedom 

This aspect of college study deserves special notice. 
The college atmosphere is or should be an atmosphere of 
"freedom." What does this mean.^ 

It means in the first place freedom from constant 
supervision, from minute rules and regulations; it means 
the opportunity to study or not to study, as one pleases. 
A watchful regime, as we have seen, characterized the 
early colleges, and is still the practice of lower schools, 
though secondary schools have modified it extensively. 
The modern college has outgrown it. In higher education 
it goes without saying that no one keeps close watch of 



88 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

the student's daily work or habits of study; instructors 
are sometimes indifferent, indeed, whether the student 
studies regularly or not — if he does he passes, if he doesn't 
he fails. In any case the responsibility rests with the 
student rather than with the teacher. 

But this points to an obvious danger, for freedom essen- 
tially implies that one may go wrong as well as right. It is 
possible not only to do a great deal of shirking, but also 
to conceal this adroitly, and with a little superficial polish 
to pass examinations. No one seems to care to make us 
study, every college has "snap courses," and perhaps our 
good intentions are discouraged by unhelpful teaching. 
We find that we can drift along through the four years 
and even graduate without having developed habits of hard 
work. Meanwhile other matters are more attractive. But 
during the senior year if not earlier the matter is likely to 
present itself in a different light; an inevitable alterna- 
tive of work or worthlessness appears, and we realize that 
freedom means something more than the absence of rules 
and compulsion. 

Freedom means legislation for oneself — the deliberate 
determination upon our own ideals, and the persistent, 
regulated effort to realize these. Just so a free country 
is not one without laws, but one which makes its own 
laws and obeys them. This positive kind of freedom 
is fundamental in all healthy college life. The value of 
the elective system and of various other features of college 
education is that they help to develop habitual obedience 
to an ideal rather than to an external authority; that they 
teach one to impose rules upon himself instead of being 
pushed and pulled along by force. This freedom, as we 
have seen, involves the possibility of abuse, and sometimes 
brings failure as well as success; but our faith is that it 
brings more success than failure, and that it is an indis- 
pensable condition of individual upbuilding and of social 
progress. Current criticism of the new order and advocacy 
of the old fashioned disciplinary regime often fail to take 
account of this aspect of the matter. That is why we 
cannot accept such criticism, but prefer freedom, even 
with its excesses and failures^ to the older practice. Only 



GENERAL CONDITIONS OF STUDY 89 

let us not lose sight of the fact that freedom, in order 
to justify itself, must be, not freedom from law, but free- 
dom through self imposed law. 

An especially good opportunity for the exercise of such 
freedom may be found in courses which leave the student 
largely to his own devices, and more particularly in those 
which are burdened with an uninteresting method. Instead 
of taking advantage of conditions to abandon the course 
or to shirk one's way through it, suppose one asks, "What 
law can I reasonably impose upon myself for my own 
education in this matter.'* Disregarding the instructor and 
his method, can I, alone or with others, make this subject 
worth while by systematic regulating my own efforts?" — I 
have known students to undertake this mastery of unfav- 
orable conditions successfully; and I hardly need add that 
they changed disgust and worry into tolerance and the 
joy of accomplishment. Such independence is true free- 
dom. 

There was, in my own college experience, a certain course 
of study which for futility of method has probably seldom 
been surpassed in the history of American higher educa- 
tion. Most of us got through it by hook or crook, prac- 
tices which did us no good whatever and which were 
partially dishonest. The general conditions of freedom 
made it easy to slip by, and we justified ourselves by 
various sophistries. I recall, however, that one of us pro- 
ceeded in an independent, good humored way to make 
the course one of real study. He shaped his own ideal, 
and at the end of the year emerged with a grasp of the 
subject which the rest of us lacked, and which I for one 
still desire. 

We may refer here to a psychological law. Professional 
habits — and this includes the habit of independent, sys- 
tematic, concentrated work — are incipiently formed in the 
years from eighteen to twenty-five; the process of forma- 
tion is practically over by the age of thirty. Evidently, 
then, the period of college education is important in this 
respect. While it is possible under inexorable conditions 
to form such habits after graduation, and while college 
graduates are sometimes compelled to do this, the adjust- 



90 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

meiit is difficult for one who has not already laid the 
foundation. Professional habits are much less likely to be 
fixed in straight, clean grooves if the college course has 
run in a wayward, slipshod manner, greased by good 
nature rather than energized by will and guided by intelli- 
gence. The counterpart of the ''survival of the fittest" — 
that law of nature which none of us can evade — is the fail- 
ure and perhaps degradation of the unfit. For this reason 
the particular subjects we study in college are relatively 
unimportant, as such, in comparison with the development 
of freedom in the sense of self reliance and an intelligent 
method which we can apply to the affairs of later life. 



CHAPTER IX 

ELEMENTARY FACTORS OF STUDY 

Interest 

Study depends upon interest; — realization of this fact 
is one of the basic features of modern educational theory. 
We study a subject because we are impelled by a curious 
feeling that M^e want to know more about it. Sometimes 
the subject is "naturally" interesting to us; sometimes it 
would be dull if we did not see that it leads to something 
valuable, in which case it has a "derived" interest. Many 
of us, for example, found tennis so naturally interesting 
that we studiously tried to perfect ourselves in playing 
it, whereas we took an interest in a railroad advertisement 
only because we were planning a vacation trip. Generally 
speaking we all are naturally interested in other people, 
especially those with whom we are closely associated; we 
are interested in living nature — animals, flowers, trees; we 
are interested in what we can do, particularly what we 
can do with skill or power, and consequently in our voca- 
tion. And from these interests a multitude of others are 
derived. 

In the earlier years of childhood study is for the most 
part a matter of obedience to the teacher, of fear of 
punishment or desire for reward, rather than a matter of 
intellectual interest. In the kindergarten the natural play 
interest is turned to account in developing study habits. 
As the pupil advances new natural interests appear, and 
derived interests likewise increase. A few individuals 
display a natural intellectual curiosity which applies to 
all subjects, but most are in need of some other motive, 
and if they do not find one report their studies as "unin- 
teresting." The tremendous growth of high schools has 

91 



92 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

intensified the problem of what the pupil at this stage 
really wants and needs to study. The most conspicuous 
tendency at the present time is that of inducing interest 
by relating studies to the conditions of actual life, and 
particularly by introducing "vocational" studies into the 
curriculum. 

In college study we observe the working of the same 
principles: natural and derived interests are the motive 
forces. Most students are provided with natural study 
interests of some sort; those who lack these ought not to 
be in college. Such interests may be latent or undiscovered, 
but under appropriate conditions they come to light, as 
when a lecture, a visit to a laboratory, or a casual con- 
versation with a friend reveals the desirability of history 
or physics or sociology. We ought indeed occasionally to 
attend classes in untouched subjects in order to give these 
sparks of natural interest an opportunity to flame up. 
Appreciative interests, dealing directly with "real life" 
are all but universal; hence the large classes in government 
and biology. The purely intellectual interest of science is 
less common. Apparently it does not arise until relatively 
late, and if prematurely forced upon the student it takes 
the form of irksome drudgery, the perfunctory perform- 
ance of experiments or learning of facts about which he 
cares not a whit. 

Many of our studies are sure to be due to some derived 
interest. A student with a distaste for mathematics recon- 
ciles himself to it because of its bearing upon engineering, 
which is his intended vocation. Another studies philosophy 
because it illuminates the problems of religion, and a third 
elects history or literature as a part of a "liberal educa- 
tion." But the derivation of an interest is not always so 
rational. Sometimes it is simply friendliness with another 
student or personal regard for a teacher which lures one 
into a particular path.^ Fortunately derived interests often 
gain the force of natural ones, as closer acquaintanceship 
reveals the truth and value of what is studied. 

^ A frank acquaintance once confessed that he took up philos- 
ophy to escape appearing as an ignoramus when the dinner table 
conversation turned to philosophic subjects. 



ELEMENTARY FACTORS OF STUDY 93 

Interest must occasionally be reenforced by discipline, 
however, and in college this discipline must be for the 
most part self imposed. No matter how much we may 
like a subject, there will inevitably come moments when 
it seems lifeless or futile, and when we are tempted to 
desert it in favor of something else. There is a certain 
type of student — if indeed he deserves the name — who feels 
a spasmodic interest in this or that pursuit, but who lacks 
sufficient force of character, when he encounters its dull 
details, to drive himself through them. So he scatters 
his energies, ever turning from a disagreeable path to a 
new one, and, as the record books clearly show, doing 
poorly in all. When the subject matter of study becomes 
monotonous there is no salvation except in the disciplined 
will. We must "take an interest" by sheer effort, setting 
ourselves to work resolutely upon the task that we know 
needs to be done. The bearing of this truth upon required 
courses is clear. Because the factor of spontaneous natural 
interest is originally lacking they have a fatal tendency to 
become uninteresting, and we can overcome their irksome- 
ness only by deliberately interesting ourselves in them. 

Attention 

Attention makes an object clear by excluding other 
things from view, and, so to speak, letting all the light of 
intelligence shine upon a particular point. Sometimes it 
is "sensory," sometimes "intellectual." The former is 
attention which is directed to sounds, colors, tastes, pres- 
sure, pain, and to objects which are made up of such 
"sense stimuli." Intellectual attention is concentration 
upon memories, anticipations, hopes, fears, fancies and 
abstract ideas. The two kinds of attention may be blended, 
as in ordinary reading, when we look at the print but 
constantly think of its meaning. 

Attention is also "voluntary" or "involuntary." It is 
involuntary when a sight or sound compels us to look or 
listen, or when a thrilling story carries us from page to 
page. Voluntary attention is an effort of the will. Chil- 
dren show little of it; their attention flies spontaneously 
from one thing to another, successfully claimed by every 



94 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

new object or occurrence. Education of course gives train- 
ing in this respect. Year by year the pupil learns to put 
his mind more fully at work upon a task^ in disregard of 
the distractions which formerly interfered so easily. Intel- 
lectual maturity is characterized by its power of sustained 
voluntary attention. In business or public affairs the 
persons who daily accomplish many things do so by their 
trained power of attending steadily to one at a time. 

Study attention in college is evidently of a voluntary- 
intellectual sort. As students we attend to ideas, and only 
incidentally or instrumentally to sense objects. This is 
true even in the laboratory where concrete facts reveal 
to the observer the larger truth which we call natural 
law. Dominant study interests have reference to principles 
and theories, to the past and future, to values which are 
not immediately present to the senses. This abstractness 
and distance of our objects implies that our attention 
must be resolutely maintained by will. Desirable as it is 
to undertake our work in the spirit of play, of freedom, 
of artistic pleasure, and to be absorbed in it through 
interest, we have to acknowledge that neither college study 
nor life in general permits such exercise without eifort. 
Grit is an essential requisite of study, and "attention to 
business" depends upon self control. It would be well if 
college entrance requirements included an unmistakable 
test of ability to sustain intellectual attention by voluntary 
effort. 

The average college class, especially a class of freshmen, 
displays a conspicuous lack of trained attentive power. 
If someone opens a window half the eyes in the room turn 
to watch the operation, even though it is perfectly familiar 
and unimportant. If two or three good friends are gath- 
ered about a library table it is highly probable that, in 
spite of the book before each, a considerable part of the 
time will be spent in casual conversation. It is almost 
impossible for some persons to study by an open window 
without letting their attention drift repeatedly to what is 
going on outside — to the sound of a voice, the passing 
of a carriage, the caller at the house across the street. Move- 
ments and sounds, especially those which have human 



ELEMENTARY FACTORS OF STUDY 95 

significance, naturally interest us, and we are likely to 
waste a good deal of time upon them unless we make 
ourselves oblivious to them by voluntary effort. This 
does not of course imply that attention should be absolutely 
unbroken. The strain upon the little muscles of the eye 
which focus our vision upon the print, and upon the 
machinery of the mind, should be relieved from time to 
time by moments of rest in which we turn from the matter 
in hand to something else. But these lapses should be 
under regular control. As students we ought to be able 
to hold our attention to a lecture or recitation for an 
hour, to stick to a theme or a problem or a solid chapter 
of a book for a couple of hours, pausing now and then 
for a bit of mental rest, but resolutely proceeding to the 
end. The problem of the proper amount of study is greatly 
simplified for one who can concentrate his mind upon his 
work. He finishes this and has plenty of time for other 
matters. 

The conditions favorable to persistent attention are quiet, 
fresh air and an unfatigued mind. Quiet is not indis- 
pensably necessary; we may become indifferent to noise, 
particularly if it is monotonous. A linotype operator work- 
ing in the pandemonium of a newspaper composing room 
or an accountant making calculations within a few feet 
of the rattle and bang of a city street show what can 
be achieved in this respect. Under the best conditions 
we have to cultivate a disregard of noise. Yet quiet is 
none the less desirable, and dormitories frequently need 
regulations to protect the studious from disturbance. Fresh 
air is requisite for properly oxygenating the blood, and 
particularly for maintaining the temperature at which this 
most easily takes place. A hot, close room is unfavorable 
to intellectual work. Freshness of mind is also important. 
Probably every one has had the experience of wearily 
reading a sentence over and over without being able to 
grasp its meaning, because the mind was too tired to make 
the necessary connections between words and phrases. 
Mental fatigue accompanies physical fatigue, hence the 
practice of postponing study until late hours is evidently 
foolish. Weariness makes the interference of passive 



96 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

imagination more insidious. The explanation of many a 
failure is that the unfortunate could hardly help thinking 
about the next game, or a girl, or a fraternity exploit, 
when other matters deserved attention. Indifference to 
imaginative distraction is quite as hard to practice as 
disregard of sensory disturbance, but we may learn to 
check incipient wanderings of eye or mind. 

Memory 

The ability to recall facts varies greatly. Some persons 
have "sticky" memories which catch and hold whatever 
touches the mind. They possess large vocabularies in 
several languages; on occasion they can instantly state 
chemical formulae, historical dates and masses of other 
fact. Once in a while a student appears to have all the 
material of a course at his or her fingers' ends during 
examination. Authentic cases are on record of persons 
who could repeat verbatim the contents of a daily paper 
after a single reading, and of clerks who could give the 
price of wheat or cotton in any month for many years. 
Before the invention of writing, and particularly before 
that of printing, it was necessary to make the memory a 
capacious storehouse of fact and fancy. There was little 
or no accumulation of scientific truth, but much history 
and poetry were passed along from generation to genera- 
tion by word of mouth. The bard might compass Homeric 
poetry, and pious men carried in their minds many a 
sacred book of song and legend and chronicle before these 
were committed to writing. Such a power is a natural 
endowment, possessed by few. 

This "native retentiveness," in the opinion of psycholo- 
gists, is practically unchangeable; in other words no gen- 
eral improvement of it is possible. Committing masses of 
poetry to memory does not help in this respect, and the 
sheer memorizing of isolated dates or of words in foreign 
languages does not greatly facilitate further acquisition. 
All that one can do to "improve the memory" is to develop 
a sound method of grasping a fact; the holding of it, once 
grasped, is beyond his control. 



ELEMENTARY FACTORS OF STUDY 97 

Such a sound method of memorizing is, however, at 
least equally important. It consists, in the first place, of 
careful attention, especially if the observation is repeated 
and if it makes use of both eye and ear. Thus the repeated 
sound of a word or date or algebraic formula cooperates 
with observation of its visual form. Second, the fact to be 
remembered should be related to something already fixed 
in the mind. If we grasp things in their relationships, 
associate dates with other dates, compare or contrast the 
views of different men, note the derivation of several 
words from a single root or the resemblance of a foreign 
idiom to one in our own tongue, we are more likely to give 
these matters a peri.ianent home in the mind.^ Third, it 
is helpful to speak or write what we wish to retain, for 
we make truth our own by actual expression quite as 
much as by passive reception. Thus we learn declensions 
and conjugations by saying them over and over, and master 
the scientific names of wild flowers by classifying them, 
to our long suffering friends, in our walks afield. 

Most of what we study we shall not remember — this is 
inevitable; and hence it is the most significant to load our 
mental repository with what is likely to be most needful. 
Into it should go the frequently useful and the fundamen- 
tally important things — the root and common words of a 
vocabulary, the basic rules of grammar, the chief dates of 
history, authoritative opinions of leading scholars, struc- 
tural ideas and striking illustrations of general laws. It 
is happily true that if we grasp fundamental principles 
the multitude of particular facts will take care of them- 
selves, either clinging like burs to the fabric of our con- 
ceptions, or else dropping away to make room for something 
more valuable. Once we clearly comprehend a dominating 
idea, such as romanticism in literature, or idealism in 
philosophy, or the historical conflict between church and 
state, we find it naturally carrying with it a sufficient 
amount of explanatory detail. The mass of what passes 
before us will be forgotten, and it is well that it should 

2 This is the principle of the "memory system," though tliis, as 
a rule, does little but impose upon the mind the additional burden 
of remembering the system. 



98 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

be, provided it has served its purpose of making clear the 
things which we need to remember^ and of developing 
power of thought. 

A "sticky" memory is therefore not indispensable; real 
scholarship can work without it. Libraries, encyclopedias 
and other books of reference are most efficient substitutes; 
and skillful observation and accurate reasoning are far 
more imjDortant. A college is a place, indeed, where one 
may learn to use the higher powers of the mind, and 
to depend less upon mere retentiveness. 

These considerations evidently apply to the subject of 
examinations. In so far as these depend upon memory 
the only effective preparation for them is that of attentive 
study, frequent reviews, recitation and thoughtful discus- 
sion. One may, it is true, spend a few hours in "cram- 
ming" into his head certain features of a subject, shrewdly 
selected by himself or by a professional tutor, and may 
thereby enable himself to answer the few questions which 
he finds on the examination paper. But because he has 
studied superficially, and has grasped facts in a sporadic 
rather than a systematically related way, his memory is 
likely to desert him; furthermore he has acquired no 
ability to deal with a problem which requires independent 
thinking, and if confronted with one he is helpless. In 
any case the hastily swallowed truth will not be mentally 
digested, and in consequence will not be long retained in 
the mind. On the other hand the knowledge and the 
power gained by deliberate, systematic study are lifelong 
possessions. 



CHAPTER X 

THOUGHT FACTORS OF STUDY 

Advanced Study Involves Thinking 

In the lower schools the pupil does little independent 
thinking; his study is more largely a process of learning 
what has been thought by some one else, or of doing 
things according to prescribed directions. Facts are to be 
memorized, rules are to be applied, and these facts, rules 
and applications, whether in arithmetic or language, are 
stated so definitely that they leave no great opportunity 
for thinking the matter out for oneself, even if this were 
possible. In the secondary school the algebra, French, 
history and elementary science are usually presented in 
precise, textbook form, somewhat *'predigested," indeed, in 
order to bring them within range of the student's compre- 
hension. The experiments performed in the laboratory are 
often little more than the blind following of directions; 
the experimenter does not know why he does thus and 
so. Where fresh analysis is required, as in the "originals" 
of geometry, the critical examination of an argument, the 
detection of the meaning of one Latin word from its resem- 
blance to another, the unaided perception of what takes 
place in the growth of a plant or the explanation of the 
failure of an experiment, there is commonly little skill. 
Authoritative facts and rules are the pedagogical burden 
of childhood and youth. 

In so far as secondary school subjects and methods are 
continued in college the student who has mastered the 
elements and routine processes marches along successfully. 
Sooner or later, however, he fiinds that higher education 
involves subjects in which textbook material is unavailable 
or inadequate. The facts of economics and history and 



100 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

biology are perhaps buried in heavy volumes in the library, 
or poured out in lectures, or hidden away in the baffling 
confusion of nature herself. Study then consists of for- 
mulating a problem, disengaging the relative facts, and 
drawing conclusions. The student has to determine his 
purposes for himself, analyze what he reads or observes, 
and put his material together in clear and systematic 
form. Unless he can do this his report of the behavior 
of an organism, or of the working of the initiative and 
referendum, will not amount to much. Of course the 
simpler methods of earlier education, the learning and the 
mechanical application of rules, continue to be more or 
less useful, but the faculty of thinking is especially in 
demand. Studies which are direct continuations of secon- 
dary school subjects, such as mathematics and foreign 
language, introduce an increasing amount of thoughtful 
effort. In short, intellectual maturity is essentially a 
power of thinking.^ 

Here is a point at which critics of the college aim their 
shafts. Society, thej say, needs thinkers ; and the college 
should provide these. Its training should enable the 
student to solve the problems, political, economic, moral, 
religious, which society constantly faces. But this ability 
depends upon scholarly thoughtfulness — and college stu- 
dents do not think! 

The accusation, though critically exaggerated, is not 
without a modicum of truih. There is indeed too little 
thinking about college studies. The difficulty is not that 

^ We have here an explanation of an interesting ' college 
phenomenon. Though in general the student's grade of scholar- 
ship in his preparatory school indicates what he v/ill do in col- 
lege, this is not always the case. Some with excellent creden- 
tials do poorly in new subjects; their transition from familiar 
mathematics and language to economics and psychology is ac- 
companied by a slump. On the other hand, a mediocre student 
occasional^ develops astonishing power upon entering a new 
field, and perhaps graduates as the leading biologist of his class. 
The reason is found in the method of advanced study and in the 
student's native interests and latent capabilities of "independent 
thinking. There is hope for the incompetent in mathematics and 
language; he may possess rare powers of scientific or historical 
investigation. 



THOUGHT FACTORS OF STUDY 101 

students cannot or do not think; — they give plenty of 
earnest thought to other matters. But as regards the 
curriculum too many are content to conform to minimum 
requirements, reading, writing and reciting in a mechanical, 
routine fashion, without making study a vital interest. Too 
few formulate for themselves the problems which constitute 
their courses of study and which are the living forces of 
higher education; too few look upon these problems, or 
upon the learning of the past which bears upon them, as 
a really important matter. The result is that many a 
college graduate has only a superficial understanding of 
contemporary life, even though he has "passed" in numer- 
ous courses dealing with life's varied concerns. No doubt 
there is much intellectual development apart from the cur- 
riculum, as well as much real scholarship within it; but on 
the whole the college does not compare favorably with 
the technical and professional school in respect to the 
amount of thoughtful attention given to subjects of study. 
The instructor who observes this lack of thoughtfulness 
feels inclined to parallel the injunction of the apostle to 
the Philippians, and say: Finally, brethren, whatsoever 
things are true, whatsoever things are important, if there 
be any science, literature and philosophy, and any virtue 
in the pursuit of them, think on these things ! 

Thinking is so complex and varied an art that exact 
rules for it cannot be given. Like walking it is learned 
by actually doing it. Nevertheless we may be helped by 
considering some of the principal features of the process 
as they appear in ordinary study. The first, of course, is 

Purposiveness 

The more definite our aim, the more skillfully and 
powerfully do we work. We recognize this principle in 
our expectation that the student shall come to college with 
a purpose, and our contempt for those who drift along 
from year to year with no other goal than graduation. 
We expect also that reasonable purposes shall guide in 
the selection of courses. It is not so clearly seen, however, 
that the same principle applies to details of study — ^to 



102 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

reading the successive chapters of a book, listening to the 
progress of a lecture, or writing paragraphs in orderly 
sequence. Too often we do not know precisely what a 
writer or speaker is driving at, and do not greatly care. 
Much of our so-called study is haphazard; it consists 
in advancing from point to point without definite intention. 
We merely read or listen, waiting for something forcible 
to strike us.^ 

In the world of affairs, needless to say, men have to be 
more pointedly studious in their work. The problems of 
business, of legislation, of disease, require definite attack. 
Successful reporters do not wander after news; physicians 
study symptoms with reference to special diagnoses; law- 
yers must substantiate particular points of argument; 
manufacturers study the market for single commodities. 
Science likewise is guided by particular purposes of inves- 
tigation. Everywhere the notable work of life is thought- 
fully aimed. 

A studious purpose is formed by thinking. It is not a 
heaven sent flash of inspiration, or a mechanical product 
of memory. It is the definite proposal of what one desires 
to do, the clear statement of what has been only a vague 
possibility. Such purposiveness is an art which depends 
upon training, upon practice. In college study, therefore, 
it is well to cultivate the habit of constantly keeping our 
aims in mind, noting the author's purpose and making it 
our own, grasping the lecturer's intention at the outset, and 
in our own speaking and writing deciding in advance what 
we want to say. Theses and examination papers would 
often be much more readable if the writer had done more 
clear thinking before beginning to write, and had taken 
the trouble to make a brief preparatory statement of the 

^To illustrate this to a class I sometimes read aloud a para- 
graph from Bryce's chapter on American universities, with the 
request that the listeners note its expository purpose. But though 
the latter is expressed with sufficient clearness in the opening 
sentence, their statements differ widely a.nd are in some cases 
far from the point. They catch striking phrases or sentences, 
but not their significance. The difficulty is simply lack of skill 
in purposiveness hstening. 



THOUGHT FACTORS OF STUDY 103 

principal things which he wished to say. They would be 
less voluminous^ perhaps, but much more scholarly. 

Purposiveness not only helps us and others to under- 
stand; it increases the interest and pleasure of study, and 
lessens the weariness of the mental drudgery which is 
indispensable to scholarship. Our purposes carry us along 
by their momentum, and give an agreeable feeling of 
command. Incidentally they make trouble for competitors. 
Successful scholars are characterized by intelligent per- 
tinacity in their aims ; their thoughtf ulness enables them to 
go directly to the mark, and on occasion to stick resolutely 
to a task when others become discouraged and abandon 
it. The intellectual labor of formulating a purpose clearly 
is no doubt hard— real thinking is the hardest kind of 
work — but in the long run it makes life easier and happier.^ 

Analysis and Note Taking 

A subject of study usually has certain features which 
are of central importance, and which must be grasped by 
"analysis." A discussion of income taxation, for example, 
or a lecture about heredity, or a chapter on Plato's ethical 
theory contains some fundamental points which are, so to 
speak, the skeleton of the matter, and which are padded 
with expository material. Upon these points the student 
has to fix particular attention. The process is especially 
indispensable in courses which consist largely of lectures 
and supplementary reading. There is such a mass of 

' There is, unfortunately, a kind of purposive study which de- 
serves unquahfied condemnation. It is that of sheer partisan- 
ship, the looking for arguments on only one side of a question, 
or aiming to find support for prejudices. There is no sharp line 
between impartial investigation of the truth and partisan effort 
to establish opinion, and the history of science shows curious 
illustrations of scholarship gone askew in this way. 

A second qualification concerns the practice called "browsing," 
the relatively unpurposive tasting of a large variety of intel- 
lectual fodder. To one surrounded by libraries and reading 
rooms this is a constant temptation, and on the whole the prac- 
tice is in good repute. It brings varied information, leads to 
the cultivation of new interests, and helps to form a genial, many 
sided character. It is commendable as a supplement but not as 
a substitute for real study. 



104 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

information, and it is so hopeless a task to try to retain 
it all, that we have to make our mental burden as valuable 
as possible by summarizing, abstracting, and digesting, in 
the form of notes. Similarly a complex problem must be 
broken up into its subordinate parts, and these dealt with 
separately, before a total solution can be reached. Scholar- 
ship thus necessarily involves the reduction of extensive 
subjects to small compass for convenience of handling. 
Hence the need of an "analytic mind." 

This ability is seldom a natural gift. Once in a while 
we find a student who naturally seizes upon the essential 
points of what he reads or hears and holds these for further 
use; but most of us muddle and flounder along in our 
study until we laboriously acquire the art. Though nature 
has provided us with the capability of developing it, we 
find that it comes mainly through patient cultivation. Text- 
books, in order to help the inept reader, often make use 
of italics, large type, marginal "side heads," and other 
devices to distinguish what is most significant; but in any 
case a good deal of analysis must be done by the reader, 
who digs out from a paragraph or page a single idea — 
its substantial thought. Lecturers likewise may present 
their subjects with analytic clearness — perhaps they ought 
to take special pains to do this — but none the less the 
student must learn to make his own analyses, and must 
learn to make them quickly and with precision. 

A profound difficulty confronts us, however. How to 
perceive what is important, how to distinguish between 
this and what is merely interesting or rhetorically striking, 
is an art for which no specific rules can be given. It 
requires a sense of "idea values." Fortunately almost 
every one possesses this sense in an elementary form, so 
that the problem becomes that of discovering how to develop 
it into expert skill. And here we may note two good prac- 
tical rules. The first is that as a preliminary step to 
analysis we do well to get a comprehensive view of the 
whole. A quick survey of a mathematical demonstration, 
a rapid reading of a chapter, a glance at the general 
course of an argument, facilitates the subsequent analytic 



THOUGHT FACTORS OF STUDY 105 

examination. Such a "bird's-eye view" is inadequate in 
itself — too many students content themselves with this and 
no more! — but it is a genuine step in learning. The pre- 
liminary view of the whole helps to locate the details in 
their proper places. And the second rule is that we should 
ask ourselves at the conclusion of a chapter or in review 
of a lecture, What are the main ideas which the writer; 
or speaker, has expressed? What does his discussion 
amount to, "boiled down".^ To ask and answer such 
questions, to practice summarization of what we read or 
hear, is to gain analytic power. 

Much of our analysis takes the form of written notes. 
Some students, it is true, are disinclined to do this; they 
dislike the interruption to listening or reading, and think 
it wiser to pay continuous attention, trusting the unaided 
memory to retain the substance of what is said. In general 
this seems to me unwise. Probably most of us pay better 
attention when we compel ourselves to make written notes. 
It is difficult, too, by mere listening to fix new ideas in our 
minds so that we do not need the subsequent clarification 
which notes provide. I have more than once observed that 
those who dispensed with writing showed, under examina- 
tion, very inadequate command of the material which they 
supposed themselves to have grasped. Both the act of 
recording the notes and the use of them in review are 
essential to study. 

Note taking may be overdone, however. Some methodi- 
cal persons habitually carry notebooks or blank cards, and 
scarcely read anj^thing of a serious nature without jotting 
down its point. The result is a kind of reference library 
of notes, systematically filed, and occasionally very useful. 
Such patient labor is exceptional, and for the most part 
unnecessary. It is better to take few rather than many 
notes, and to use these few as pegs on which to hang our 
own further reflections. We learn most by thinking things 
over. At the same time the habit of recording an especially 
important thought, wherever we meet it, is well worth 
while.* 

* In reading books of our own we may underline important 



106 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

Gradually the student gains the faculty of grasping a 
point instantly and firmly, then hastening along, even skip- 
ping with only a passing glance over much "connective 
tissue" until he strikes something vital again. The amount 
that trained readers compass in a single hour is astonishing. 
Their skill has reached such perfection that the eye auto- 
matically takes in a page, fixes upon its central thought, 
and swiftly passes on to the next. Editors and literary 
critics habitually read dozens of volumes and scores of 
current magazines in a small fraction of the time which 
we would require, yet thoroughly enough to extract their 
substance. The strange feature of the process is the dis- 
regard of unimportant matter without exactly looking to 
see whether it is unimportant. This is highly trained 
analytic attention. 

The student therefore needs to cultivate concurrently two 
kinds of analytic skill, that of reading a book, perhaps a 
textbook, closely, carefully, thoughtfully, and also that 
of reading rapidly a large quantity of material for the 
sake of its principal ideas. 

The most striking accomplishments of analytic thought 
are found in the scientific observation and explanation of 
facts. In natural science we are dealing, not primarily 
with books and lectures — material which is itself the 
product of analysis, and is arranged to facilitate study — 
but with a chaotic field in which the discrimination of the 
relevant from the irrelevant, and the reduction of the 
matter to its simplest terms are very much more difficult. 
How helpless we are in trying to study ourselves out of 
a difficulty with an erratic typewriter or a misbehaving 
furnace — puzzles much less obscure than the secrets of 
nature. Perhaps it is not to be expected that the rank 
and file of college students shall do much more than repeat 
experiments and come to an understanding of what 
others have discovered. Yet now and then there appears a 

sentences, or indicate them by a marginal mark, or we may write 
in the margin a brief statement Avhich summarizes a paragraph. 
This obviously helps us in review. But in the name of academic 
decency let us refrain from marking books which belong to other 
persons or to a library. We might with as much propriety carve 
our names on a neighbor's front door. 



THOUGHT FACTORS OF STUDY 107 

first hand observer^ gifted with the power of analytic atten- 
tion to nature, and the result is a Newcomb, a Shaler, a 
James, and a little pushing forward of the frontier of our 
knowledge into the wilderness of our ignorance. 

Supplementary Thinking 

Study we have seen to consist of purposive thinking and 
analytic thinking. It also consists of supplementary think- 
ing, — the enlargement, clarification and correction of what 
is presented to us. For example, the editorial on "Smoking 
in Street Cars," which I have just read, has less value 
for me as an authoritative statement which I need to learn 
than as a means of developing my own opinion. It brings 
to mind my own observations, it raises questions about 
habits and tendencies of human nature and about health 
and comfort, it invites criticism, partial acceptance and 
partial rejection. And so if I spend some minutes in 
supplementary thought on the subject I understand it bet- 
ter than I would by simply perusing the editor's remarks. 
Books, magazine articles, sermons and lectures are often 
chiefly valuable not as information but as food for reflec- 
tion. In this subject the best presentation of the various 
features of college life which I can make is certainly in- 
adequate and hence is to be used by the student, through 
his own reflection, to develop a more correct and comprehen- 
sive view. 

Some of the principal forms of supplementary thought 
are the following: 

First, Illustration. Facts and principles are ren- 
dered much clearer if we can throw upon them the 
light of similar matters with which we are familiar. Thus 
our understanding of an idiom in a foreign language is 
facilitated by comparing it with an odd usage of English. 
If a new project of legislation is mentioned, a reflective 
listener can perhaps tell how it has worked in his own 
state. Some students are especially bright in illustrating 
history by modern analogies, or the principles of economics 
or ethics by observations of contemporary American affairs. 
New ideas mean something to them in terms of their own 
experience, and whatever they touch glows with a warmth 



108 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

that comes from contact with life. The thoughtful search 
for fresh illustrations gives us a better grasp of what we 
are trying to illustrate. 

Second, Explanation. We "explain" when we ascertain 
the cause of a fact^ or relate a specific truth to one of 
more general ai3plication. Human beings have a sponta- 
neous interest in the why of things, an interest exhibited 
even by children in their curious questions about the world 
and what happens around them. This interest needs only 
cultivation to become the dynamic of scientific progress, 
for science consists of observing nature so carefully that 
we can formulate its laws, which we then use to explain 
particular occurrences and to predict the future. The 
physical sciences are already well developed in this respect, 
but the complex behavior of society is little understood in 
terms of cause and effect. We have yet to learn definitely 
how political crises, labor movements and religious develop- 
ments show the working of great natural laws. The cause 
of a recent financial flurry, for example, is stated in the 
newspapers with profuse variety and with little agreement 
as to the relative importance of the factors involved. Our 
studies in all fields are continually presenting facts which 
call for explanation, and if yvc attack them with this kind of 
"supplementary thinking" we may contribute a little to the 
advance of learning as well as increase our rational power. 
So important, indeed, is the explanatory point of view that 
some of our leading educators have regarded the develop- 
ment of it as the central feature of an ideal educational 
system. 

Third, Evaluation. This is the process of estimating the 
worth of an idea, of looking at both sides of a question, 
weighing the evidence and forming a just conclusion. In 
advanced study as in matters of everyday experience facts 
often seem at variance and opinions about them differ, so 
that it is the task of the student to ascertain the real truth 
for himself. Instead of accepting uncritically whatever 
strikes him as plausible, or rejecting the views of others 
because they do not harmonize with his prejudices, he can 
put himself in the position of a judge who decides a case 
on its merits. This balancing of considerations to deter- 



THOUGHT FACTORS OF STUDY 109 

mine their relative value, in other words the "judicial" 
habit of mind, is in some persons a natural gift, but we 
can all cultivate it.^ 

A special responsibility for evaluative thinking rests 
upon the college bred. Contemporary problems, such as 
arise in the fields of education^ government, and religion, 
call for wise, independent judgment on the part of those 
who deal with them. Conservatism and radicalism alike 
need intelligent criticism. Guidance by tradition and 
authority are perhaps best for the mass of people, but 
such guidance often fails in dealing with new conditions; 
while on the other hand the zeal of new ideas and the 
emotions of sympathy and anger in matters of reform 
must be tempered by sound discrimination. College grad- 
uates ought to be leaders of public opinion, and at the 
same time the steady balance wheel of society. To see all 
sides of a question, to remain unaffected by prejudice, to 
act for the welfare of the town, the city, the state and the 
nation, rather than for that of a particular class, is their 
special privilege. College is the place where fairminded- 
ness may be most thoroughly acquired. The best kind of 
training may be obtained through the deliberate and im- 
partial discussion of the controversial questions of college 
study and college life.^ 

^ I once found almost an entire class answering the question. 
Why is play more attractive than study? by saying simply that 
the goal of study is more distant than that of play. Probably 
they had obtained this explanation, which is a part of the truth, 
from some seemingly authoritative source, but it is significant that 
few had reflected upon the point enough to observe that study 
often has a goal as immediate as that of play, that some persons 
find study more attractive than play, that play appeals to social 
and competitive instincts much more than study. Yet all these 
considerations lie within easy reach of one who thinks the matter 
over. 

® There is a kind of hypertrophied thought fulness which ends 
in inactivity or in scepticism. One may see all sides of a problem 
so meditatively as to disable himself from doing anything about 
it; — perhaps this is a special danger to the student because he is 
removed from active participation in the world's affairs. But 
on the whole thoughtfulness tends to efficiency. 



CHAPTER XI 



SCHOLARSHIP 



Are College Students Unscholarly? 

If the teachers in American colleges were asked to state 
what in their opinion is the principal defect in student 
life, they would probably answer in chorus, "Lack of 
scholarship !" Friendly, likable, courteous, morally earnest 
though the student may be, possessed of excellent qualities 
and full of promise for the future, he yet fails as a rule 
in one important respect — the desire to master a subject of 
study, and the willingness to sacrifice other interests for 
this end. Belonging to an institution which is essentially 
devoted, as its history clearly shows, to the highest culture 
of the mind, he takes part in it and even helps to carry 
on its daily life without fully realizing its meaning. 
Lacking, it is alleged, is "the spirit of learning." 

Is this charge true? Certainly not in an unqualified 
form. There are genuine scholars in the ranks of student 
life, young men and young women of brilliancy and power 
who leave nothing to be desired in the way of scholarly 
thoughtfulness and zeal. Perhaps there are more of these 
than the professorial critic ordinarily acknowledges, for 
while he appreciates the good work which comes before 
him, he is obliged to spend most of his time in considering 
another kind, and he not infrequently finds himself over- 
whelmed by the mass of good natured indifference to 
study. The intellectually earnest are crowded into the 
background of the scene. 

But when this qualification is made the fact remains that 
most college work is mediocre. It passes, but does not do 
justice to the subject or the capability of the student. 
The latter gives only intermittent attention to lecture or 

110 



SCHOLARSHIP 111 

discussion^ scans hastily one or two references when a 
dozen are important^ contents himself with a cursory- 
perusal of a chapter instead of a thoughtful analysis of 
it^ passes over points of difficulty without examination. 
Slipshod, inaccurate recitation; vague, unsystematic essays; 
incoherent, superficial reports of reading; "fuzzy" ideas 
appropriately expressed in careless grammar or illegible 
script — these are prevalent facts. Undoubtedly the easy 
going student acquires some information, but his attain- 
ment is frequently sufficient only to pass very lenient 
requirements. How far his performance is from genuine 
scholarship he himself knows. Confronted with the ques- 
tion, "How much of your work have you done as well as 
you can.f^" he would probably answer conscientiously, "Not 
much."^ 

Probably the undergraduate would be moved to remark 
further that the innumerable demands of college life make 
scholarship impossible; and certainly the reasons for the 
present condition are easily seen. In the first place there 
is a lack of initial interest, especially in required but 
seemingly futile subjects; and this untoward state of mind 
is hampered by a lack of methodical knowledge of how 
to study. Undoubtedly many students enter college with- 
out constitutional fitness, clear purpose, or proper discipli- 
nary training. The ease with which a college education 
may be attained attracts many who have little natural 
capacity for it, and little desire to excel in it. The difficulty 
is increased by the social complexity of college life with 
its emphasis upon athletic, fraternal and other non-intel- 
lectual activities. These are naturally more interesting, on 
account of their social character, than are subjects of study. 
Scholarship suffers because it is so individualistic a pursuit; 
it wins no great social approval because it lacks social 
enthusiasm. Hence social incentives to it are wanting, and 
the ideal college man is defined in other terms than intel- 

^An interesting contrast is pointed out between these condi- 
tions and those which prevail in Oxford and Cambridge. The 
general level of scholarship is perhaps not widely different in the 
two cases, but in our colleges fewer students give themselves 
to study with the utmost earnestness, and become known as 
scholars of the first rank. 



112 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

lectual proficiency. Furthermore, the lure of professional 
ambition is felt less keenly than in the professional school. 
A liberal education does not obviously point toward success, 
in the common understanding of the term; it shows little 
direct connection with the business and enjoyment of life. 
The total result is that a large majority are content with 
mediocre work, and the college is distinguished by faculty 
learnedness rather than by undergraduate learning.^ 

What is the remedy for a condition so manifestly inap- 
propriate in an institution of higher learning? Our answer 
must recognize that no single prescription is adequate. 
The problem must be attacked from different sides, and 
improvement must come through the combined force of 
various influences. 

The Motives of Scholarship 

Let us understand at the outset that scholarship neces- 
sarily involves cooperation. Instructors cannot communi- 
cate it to unwilling students, and on the other hand the 
scholarly minded student needs direction by the instructor. 
As we touch the matter on different sides we find at every 
point that teachers can supply the motives of scholarship 
only if "the party of the second part" gives them a 
lodgment in his own thought. 

First, of course, there must be interest in the subject, 
the perception that it represents some aspect of human 
life and that knowledge of it reacts upon life, giving the 
latter breadth, dignity and power. This "life value" may 
be explained, but generally speaking it will be realized 
by the student only through deliberately, voluntarily taking 
an interest. Second, successful scholarship depends upon 
knowledge of method. Indifference sometimes comes from 
vagueness as to just what is to be done or just how to 
do it. The art of study varies, of course, in different 

^ Mr. Dooley depicts the incoming freshman as welcomed by 
the president with the inquiry, "Me clear boy, what special branch 
iv larnin wud ye like to have studied fr ye be our competint 
professors?" and the good-humored gibe indicates a fact. The 
division of labor is often accepted by teachers as well as by 
students. 



SCHOLARSHIP 113 

subjects, and like other arts can be learned only by specific 
instruction and responsive practice. Perhaps teachers 
ought to inculcate precise methods more carefully than 
they ordinarily do, showing how to take notes, how to look 
for material, how to limit and define topics, how to use 
apparatus, and the like. Possibly the student also ought 
to take more pains to learn just how work should be 
done. And this leads us to a third point: the solid basis 
of scholarship is the regular practice of meeting definite 
requirements. As we learn by actually doing, so the worth 
as well as the art of scholarly effort reveals itself to those 
who become accustomed to steady performance. How 
many students not only have no regular study habits, but 
also have a feeling that probably none are needed, since 
nothing definite is really required ! Accordingly, there is a 
basic need of a fair amount of regular work. If the mini- 
mum valleys and average levels of study can be raised in 
this way perhaps the higher peaks will rise spontaneously. 
These are positive prerequisites. A negative one, fre- 
quently proposed, is the stricter regulation of the affairs 
of college life which distract attention from study. It 
seems absurd to allow these to absorb so much time and 
energy that the student has little or none left for his 
main business, hence many critics think that there is need 
of rigorous surgical treatment of these excrescences, and 
some colleges limit the number of college enterprises in 
which a student may engage. It may be doubted, however, 
whether such restrictions have much positive effect in im- 
proving scholarship; but apart from this consideration it 
is questionable whether the limitation of individual free- 
dom, except for the direct benefit of the college as a 
social body, is desirable. Certainly it is better if possible 
to encourage scholarship by showing that it is worth while. 
In order to make this clear it has been proposed that 
the number and value of honors and prizes be increased. 
Competition will thus be stimulated, it is hoped, and the 
winners will attain such honor as is now accorded almost 
exclusively to athletes. Doubtless it would be possible in 
this way to encourage scholarly effort, but we may question 
whether the method goes to the root of the difficulty op 



114 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

would have extensive eiFect. There is comparatively little 
competition for existing prizes, even when they are of 
considerable value. The four principal kinds of scholarly 
distinction — paid or honorary scholarships, special honors 
in particular courses or departments, essay and debating 
prizes, and membership in the honorary societies of Phi 
Beta Kappa and Sigma Xi — do not commonly attract a 
large number of competitors. They call for individualistic 
rather than for social effort, and perhaps for this reason 
are often regarded with mild contempt as the concern of 
an abnormal, unsocial type of mind. The honor loses 
importance if it fails to command social appreciation. 
Furthermore, money awards seem so uncertain of attain- 
ment that the practical mind looks upon competition for 
them as a probable waste of time. To preach that the 
effort is well worth while in itself is to make use of the 
very considerations which such a mind does not grasp — the 
intrinsic dignity of scholarship and its general utility as 
training. 

The depreciation of scholarship will therefore not be 
radically altered by increasing the number of honors and 
prizes. While these have a wholesome function in college, 
and perhaps more are needed, they fail to solve the problem 
of increasing respect for study. If the common under- 
graduate valuation of intellectual proficiency is inadequate, 
this mistake can be corrected only by showing that such 
proficiency leads to certain things in life which are un- 
mistakably desirable — to successful professional work, to 
refined enjoyment, to effective citizenship. 

The solution of the problem therefore lies in the direction 
of proving that scholarship brings rewards in life which 
the unscholarly do not attain. Can this be proved.^ Cer- 
tainly a considerable amount of evidence is found in the 
fact that the students who win the highest grades in col- 
lege study also win an exceedingly disproportionate num- 
ber of distinctions in later life. This important truth is 
revealed by comparing college records with those of the 
professional school, with the testimon}?- of Who's Who, and 
with the careful observations of college authorities who 
follow the careers of college graduates. Such comparison 



SCHOLARSHIP 115 

of student performance with subsequent achievement shows 
that the college scholar has much the best chance of dis- 
tinguishing himself in law^ medicine^ and other highly 
trained vocations_, as well as of attaining more general 
kinds of influence and happiness.^ Undoubtedly success 
in life finds its explanation in other conditions and qualities 
of character beside zeal in study — in friendliness^ in influ- 
ential support^ and in sheer will. The kind of success 
which is desirable is based on an "all 'round" excellence 
of character. But we ought not to entertain the delusion 
that this broad excellence may omit studious interest, or 
that the hard student is doomed to obscurity. In view 
of the facts the notion that study does not pay can hardly 
be sustained. Study most distinctly does pay. Probably it 
does not bring the very largest pecuniar}'- rewards, but 
there is unmistakable evidence that it brings success in the 
soundest and best meaning of the term. 

Grades 

Consideration of the problem of scholarship inevitably 
runs into the subject of grades, i.e., the letters, words or 
numbers which officially indicate degrees of scholarly excel- 
lence. Almost every one is keenly interested in these 
symbols. He may be ambitious or hopeless, proud or 
ashamed, gratified or disgruntled, but he is rarely indifl'er- 
ent. In fact it may be said that nine-tenths of the problem 
of scholarshij^ as felt by college students is that of securing 
satisfactory grades. These are so important an appendage 
of the curriculum, and their advantages and disadvantages 

^ For example, the percentage of Phi Beta Kappa graduates 
who achieve later distinction is approximately three times that 
of all college graduates who do this. For a discussion of the 
subject and a report of statistical studies see Foster, Adminis- 
tration of the College Curricidum, Ch. XI. Compare also Slosson, 
Great American Universities, pp. 68, 69. 

Our conclusion is not invalidated by the fact that there are 
geniuses who do not fit into the college scheme, who fail in its 
studies, and who nevertheless accomplish great things in later life 
by methods of their own. These peculiar exceptions, properly 
understood, rather reenforce the general truth. Nor is it sig- 
nificant that the mere "grind" is likely to get nowhere. The spirit 
(Of scholarship must of course be integrated in a well rounded life. 



116 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

are so complex, that it is worth our while to consider the 
matter somewhat in detail. Are they a desirable asset or 
an intolerable nuisance? What is the proper attitude 
toward them?* 

As an advantage we must acknowledge their administra- 
tive usefulness. They not only define the passing mark, 
but they help to give definiteness to conditions of gradua- 
tion. They are a basis for awarding honors, and for 
recommending graduates for various appointments. In 
short they constitute a more reliable record of what a 
student has done, and a more exact measure of his intel- 
lectual ability, than could be stated conveniently in any 
other way. Secondly, their influence as incentives, though 
this is commonly overestimated, is unquestionably effective 
in the case of some individuals. To a few at the top of 
the ladder the A is a tempting bait, steadily pursued week 
after week when without it work would have slackened; 
while at the other end of the scale the mark of failure 
is a goad which prods the delinquent with its pointed 
suggestion of disgrace. To a smaller extent intermediate 
grades have a similar effect. They help to settle the prac- 
tical problem of how hard to work. And apart from this 
consideration they satisfy a natural human curiosity, the 
desire to know how well one is doing in a field which is 
too extensive or complex for one's own grasp. The grade 
is the instructor's relatively expert estimate of one's knowl- 
edge and power, matters in which one is justifiably 
interested. 

On the other hand it may be urged that grades distract 
attention from the central purpose of study; that they 

* Grades appear to have been used originally to determine 
relative standing in the award of final honors; but in time they 
gained new functions as conditions of graduation and as a basis 
for expelling poor students. The use of them is now all but 
universal, though a few institutions dispense with them, except 
for the necessary distinction between passing and failure, and 
some do not report them to students. There is a general tendency 
toward the adoption of a simple system consisting of four pass- 
ing grades. A, B, C, D, and two grades, E and F, indicating 
more or less complete failure. This system has a workable sim- 
plicity, and facilitates the transfer of a student from one insti- 
tution to another. 



SCHOLARSHIP 117 

tend to make one aim at a letter rather than at a grasp 
of the subject. At best this is not the ideal "spirit of 
learning"; at worst it produces a "grade hunting" char- 
acter, inquisitive, envious, petulant, even dishonest in large 
or petty ways. Occasionally it leads to overwork and ill 
health, especially among girls, who sometimes regard the 
letter A as a symbol of salvation. But the principle 
objection is that it imposes a narrow, artificial and unreli- 
able standard of accomplishment in place of the student's 
own deliberate judgment of what his study amounts to. 
The standard is unsatisfactory because it is based on a 
few answers to questions, or pages of writing, conveniently 
assumed to represent the student's total grasp of a subject. 
How far from the truth this may be, especially in the case 
of a "catchy" examination, or how inadequately the grade 
may indicate the student's intellectual upbuilding, we need 
not stop to explain. Moreover the grade is only the judg- 
ment of a single person, sometimes one of rather unjudicial 
character. Instructors mark very variously. The same 
paper, submitted to Mr. X and to ^Ir. Y, will be highly 
commended by one and called a poor effort by the other. 
The judgment of the instructor varies at different times, 
and as a rule is too lenient at all times. Almost every one 
gives a larger percentage of high grades than is reasonable, 
and some are habitually thus indulgent to a third or a half 
of the class. Under such conditions mediocre students who 
fail to receive the highest mark feel disappointed, and 
distinctions of honor cease to be distinctive. More rarely 
the teacher shows a discouraging unwillingness to recognize 
real ability, or bases his marking, consciously or uncon- 
sciously, upon the student's general reputation for scholar- 
ship. No doubt instructors are usually fair minded and 
conscientious. Serious injustice is infrequent. But when 
one has to read scores of essays or examination papers in 
a few hours, critical analysis is impossible, and appreciation 
is necessarily somewhat impressionistic. The overburdened 
reader looks hastily for certain main points, makes a shrewd 
estimate of the writer's knowledge and labor, and passes on 
to the next paper. 

There are two principles which should govern the assign- 



118 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

ment of grades^ and in consequence the student's under- 
standing of the matter. The first is that the pass mark 
ought to indicate satisfactory work. Too often it is given 
grudgingly^ and with a strong flavor of condemnation, to 
those whose work clearly does not deserve it. The land 
is full of college graduates who have "passed" in subjects 
about which they know almost nothing. But what, as a 
question of intellectual consistency, does "passing" mean 
if not a genuine grasp of a sibject? The view that the 
C has a shadow of disgrace athwart it is quite as unjusti- 
fiable as the student's acceptance of it as "the gentleman's 
grade." If one passes in a course no special praise or 
criticism is appropriate; he has satisfied the minimum 
requirements — which should be high enough to make his 
performance really satisfactory. If he displays greater 
ability or energy, and especially if his instincts of scholar- 
ship lead him to put individuality and originality into his 
work, he should receive credit in the form of higher grades. 
The highest should be reserved for extraordinarily brilliant 
accomplishment. With this understanding the D may be 
assigned to the relatively few doubtful cases, the merits of 
which cannot easily be determined more precisely. 

The second principle is that mental ability varies accord- 
ing to a kind of natural law, so that the different grades 
normally go to certain proportions of the class. Under 
proper conditions of instruction there are a few who 
deserve the highest mark on account of extraordinary 
brilliancy or zeal. At the other extreme there are a few 
failures and cases of doubt. The rest of the class is of 
average merit, though it may be subdivided into smaller 
grade-groups. Thus, to state the principle in convenient 
figures, we may say that ten per cent of a class should 
receive A, twenty-five per cent B, fifty per cent C, and 
fifteen per cent D, E and F. In so far as the class is a 
selected group these proportions may vary. In a small 
number class of advanced students there may be an 
abnormal amount of excellent ability; while in a very 
large class the difficulty of holding individuals to their 
work may ultimately produce an over weight of low grades. 
Required and elective courses are likely to show a slight 



SCHOLARSHIP 119 

difference^ and any course will now and then gather an 
exceptional number of hard workers or of dullards. But 
as a rule a class' will naturally fall into groups of some 
such proportions as those stated.^ 

The application of these principles will perhaps be 
unwelcome to one who has been accustomed to getting 
high marks easily, and they may bring an unpleasant 
feeling of being predestined to a place in the lower half 
of the class, or a discouraging sense of being only an 
average student. But on the whole it is better to get 
just what we deserve, and in the long run it is more 
satisfactory to know where we stand than to harbor illu- 
sions about our ability — and suffer inevitable disillusion- 
ment later. Unsuccessful in one field, possibly we will 
attain success in another. 

What is most needed is a lessened interest in grades and 
an increased interest in the subjects studied. Concern 
about grades is, after all, rather childish. Much of it is 
mere curiosity, or pride, or a somewhat selfish spirit of 
competition, — traits which are not of the first importance 
in human character. Graduate students and those who 
have a strong professional purpose become indifferent to 
marks, and relish the freer atmosphere of advanced study. 
Some undergraduates, likewise, rise above such petty con- 
siderations. They have a more stimulating objective, and 
also a more critical judgment about their own work. The 
true scholar cares for the instructor's help rather than for 
a grade, and cares most for what he feels himself to be 
obtaining from his work. He knows that his own thought- 
ful judgment on this point is more important than that 
of any one else. Is it not possible to develop more widely 
the spirit of scholarship which strives for what is really 
worth while, and declines to trouble itself with mere letters 
or figures ? Acknowledging that human nature has an 
instinctive desire for such distinctions, from which it seldom 

^The ground for this assertion lies in certain psychological 
experiments, and in the careful observation of mental ability in 
large numbers of persons. Tests susceptible of exact measure- 
ment reveal in statistical form the natural law of distribution of 
mental ability. For an extended discussion of the subject see 
Foster, Administration of the College Curriculum, Chap. XIII, 



120 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

becomes completely free, we may still hold that other 
motives should dominate college study. The distinction 
which most college students need is the trained mind which 
has methodical command of a problem, and an independent, 
self critical power of investigation. One who possesses 
this is not likely to lack the more formal distinctions. 



CHAPTER XII 

STUDENT HONESTY 

Prevalent Conditions 

In college as elsewhere we find honest and dishonest 
persons. Some students are simply incorruptible; no 
matter what emergencies arise they present for credit no 
work which is not entirely their own. A few, on the other 
hand, are habitually dishonest, willing to make use of any 
illegal resources if they can do so with probable safety, 
wholly callous to the dishonor and injustice of their 
action. Fortunately they are very few. Between extremes 
are those who are more or less likely to succumb to temp- 
tation, and it is this large middle class, the occasionally 
or accidentally dishonest, of which we need to take special 
account. They are not naturally or deliberately immoral, 
but are rather weak or thoughtless about the matter. 

The principal causes of stumbling are found in the 
pressure of difficult and disagreeable tasks, laziness, per- 
sonal antagonism to an instructor, and the persistence of 
an immature attitude toward study, a view of it as irksome 
discipline rather than a means of growth. At the moment, 
perhaps, the offence seems a peccadillo, justified by over- 
powering necessity and by human nature in general. But 
of course it may be the first stroke in wearing a groove 
of habit. The next slip is easier. 

College dishonesty is usually more or less localized in 
particular subjects or courses. Exacting, uninteresting 
requirements in mathematics or English composition, for 
example, produce traditions which are passed along from 
one class to another, to the effect that certain slippery 
methods have become legitimate through common use. 
Recitations or examinations which impose undue strain 

121 



122 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

upon the memory encourage the practices of reading from 
concealed translations, borrowing surreptitious assistance 
from friendly neighbors, and carrying into the chamber 
of torture illicit information in compact and inconspicuous 
form. Doubtless the most common evil is the submission 
of written work, such as themes and essays, which have 
been copied from books, or perhaps begged, borrowed, 
purchased or stolen from more gifted associates. There is 
so much writing in college courses that shrewd scamps now 
and then make a lucrative business of supplying theses 
and other material to those who, in the polished language 
of the advertisement, "have no taste, time or aptitude for 
such tasks." Fraternities sometimes preserve the written 
work of members for use by later generations. Kindred 
spirits in the pursuit, or rather the avoidance of unpleasant 
studies ingeniously organize an "intelligence bureau" which 
places the slight learning of each at the disposal of all. 
Such localized dishonesty does not necessarily extend its 
operation to other courses of study, but it is likely to do 
so in emergencies. 

College dishonesty is illogical, however. So complex 
and irrational is moral character that a student who will 
cheat roundly under some circumstances will be scrupu- 
lously honest under others not essentially different. More- 
over, some who hardly hesitate to look on a neighbor's 
paper will refrain from lying if detected, perhaps because 
in their childhood training they received a deep and lasting 
impression that spoken falsehood is wrong, whereas 
scholastic honor was a later and more superficial acquisi- 
tion. Furthermore, one who will deceive an instructor may 
be a pinnacle of rectitude in other respects — generous, 
loyal, active for the welfare of the college. Once in a 
while a prominent and respected student is caught in 
deception, to the amazement of everybody. On the other 
hand a punctiliously honest fellow may be a prig and a 
social nuisance. It should be added, however, that habitual 
dishonesty in study is generally significant of moral 
weakness in other directions. The tendency of any un- 
sound spot in the fabric of one's character is sooner or 
later to corrupt the whole, while conversely a habit of 



STUDENT HONESTY 123 

honesty works to harmonize the rest of life with itself. 
From one point of view^, indeed^, the function of the college 
is precisely that of introducing rational and moral con- 
sistency into life. 

College study, like the business of the country at large, 
is in general conducted honestly; in both fields dishonesty 
is exceptional. While there are occasional lapses on the 
part of individuals, and some slight epidemics, college 
students as a class meet fair requirements with honest 
effort. There is no reason to believe that dishonesty is 
more prevalent to-day than it was fifty years ago, when 
the "trot" was not unknown in- college halls, though doubt- 
less it has evolved in variety along with the curriculum. 
The evil diminishes, too, as the student advances ; upper 
classes are comparatively free from it. What exists is of 
relatively small proportions, and demands attention just 
as an epidemic of disease, affecting only a fraction of one 
per cent of the population, calls for preventive and curative 
treatment. The problem is partly that of removing certain 
unhealthy conditions, and partly the development of an 
intelligent view of student responsibility. Reasonable re- 
quirements and fair examinations will do much to lessen 
the evil, a concerted "college spirit" of honesty is requisite, 
and the significance of dishonesty with regard to character 
and life work needs to be made clear. 

The Honor System 

The most notable line of improvement is that of the 
"honor system," which transfers responsibility for the 
honest performance of work from the instructor to the 
student himself, on the theory that trust encourages hon- 
esty, whereas supervision fails to secure it. The name 
is applied to three forms of practice. Sometimes it indi- 
cates only a general habit of trust, according to which 
students are left alone in examinations. Sometimes it 
includes a written declaration that the student has neither 
given nor received improper aid. Lastly, it may imply 
responsibility on the part of every one to report any 
offence which he sees, either to the faculty or to a student 



124 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

committee which is empowered to deal with the case. In 
one or another of these forms it is found in about a third 
of American colleges, and the adoption of it is increasing. 
On the whole it appears to work successfully, though 
opinions concerning its efficacy vary, and there have been 
occasional failures and abandonment.-*^ 

A frequent objection to the honor system is that it is 
artificial in comparison with the conditions of every day 
life. We do not ordinarily have our word taken unques- 
tionably; rather do we expect to purchase tickets, give 
receipts, present witnesses, and altogether to stand a great 
deal of scrutiny. Similarly in college, it is said, we ought 
to look upon supervision simply as a sound method of 
ascertaining that work is properly done. Reliance upon 
honor in particular matters or under special conditions 
tends to suggest that at other times deception is normal if 
not proper. The higher kind of honor, we are told, the 
honor that is perfectly indifferent to supervision or the 
lack of it, remains undeveloped. 

The force of this objection is overbalanced in the opinion 
of many, however, by the practical effectiveness of the 
honor system as contrasted with supervision. Possibly, too, 
the discrepancy from ordinary life is less than is alleged; 
trust and confidence are after all rather common. Thus 
we customarily accept one another's word without question, 
especially in the friendly, family and even in the business 
relations to which the college bears closest analogy, unless 
there is reason for demanding better credentials. The 
danger that trust will tend to cultivate a state of mind 
which is not honest unless it is trusted is largely fanciful, 
and is certainly overborne by the value of forming a 
habit of working honestly. The graduates of honor sys- 
tem colleges are probably not less honest in affairs of 
later life than are the graduates of others. The practical 
effects of the system, both in college and afterward, are, 
in the opinion of a majority of students and instructors 
who have had experience with it, such as to justify confi- 

^For the results of questionnaire investigations see Sheldon, 
Student Life and Customs, pp. 262-^65, and The Nation, May 2, 
1912, Letter on the Honor System. 



STUDENT HONESTY 125 

dence in it. It actually helps to create conditions and to 
form habits of honesty. 

Each of the three forms of the honor system has its 
merits and its difficulties or defects^ The simple relation 
of mutual confidence between instructors and students is 
in itself a desirable condition, and it is one which often 
works satisfactorily without more methodical reenforce- 
ment. Single courses and even whole departments are 
found in which no one thinks of cheating or being cheated, 
no matter what occurs elsewhere. This is especially true 
of mature students, engaged in study of their own choosing, 
and enjoying relations of personal friendship with their 
teachers. In such cases the clear atmosphere of habitual 
honesty pervading the departmental precincts may be a 
refreshing and inspiring change to newcomers. No better 
method of cultivating self dependence and respect for work 
could be found. There is plenty of testimony that it 
stiffens the student's self reliance, accentuates the mean- 
ness of cheating, and is seldom abused even by persons 
who have been accustomed to dishonesty elsewhere. 

Occasional abuse there will surely be, however. Students 
are human beings, and human nature is inclined to take 
care of itself in emergencies as best it can. But certainly 
there is no more dishonesty under a judicious exercise of 
trust than regularly occurs under conditions of suspicion, 
and the total result in the development of character is 
far more wholesome. It is better to provide an opportun- 
ity for moral self development, even though a few prove 
unworthy, than it is to continue through the college years 
a state of mind characteristic of immaturity and foreign 
to the spirit of higher education. Freedom, as we have 
already noted, implies the possibility of abuse, and the pos- 
sibility of doing right involves the danger of doing wrong. 
Instructors are now and then saddened by such abuse of 
confidence, but this regret is overbalanced by the concur- 
rent opinion of a multitude of students as to the efficacy 
and value of trust in their own lives. 

The reason for requiring a written pledge of adherence 
to the honor system is that it serves as a concrete re- 
minder of responsibility, — a thing which is perhaps espe- 



126 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

cially needful in large colleges with their loose personal 
ties between faculty and student body. If the institution 
professes to maintain the principle of honor in its examina- 
tions it is well to have this asserted by individuals as a 
matter of their own adoption. It also acts as a deterrent 
in the case of one who would cheat but who would not 
lie about it^ for these offences, as has been pointed out, 
are not equally easy to commit. On the other hand it 
encourages the offender to add one fault to another, and 
it fails to reach those who are hardened in dishonesty. 

The honor system in its third form rests upon the as- 
sumption that when dishonesty occurs students have not 
only knowledge of the fact, but also moral reliability in 
dealing with it. This assumption is of crucial importance. 
It is one thing to possess a sense of responsibility with 
regard to one's own conduct; it is quite another to ac- 
knowledge responsibility for the conduct of others. So 
in society at large, one who would not pilfer an apple 
from a fruit stand, or beat his way on a street car, is 
usually unwilling to report or rebuke those whom he 
chances to observe committing these misdemeanors. Not 
unless the offense is criminally dangerous do we feel under 
obligation to bring the offender to justice. In college, 
likewise, reporting dishonestly seems to be tale bearing, 
and even to show disloyalty. Perfectly honorable students 
have an instinctive repugnance to doing such a thing, 
and colleges have sometimes refused to adopt the honor 
system simply because they would not tolerate what they 
regarded as dishonorable spying.^ Other colleges have 
abandoned it because in this respect it failed; when cheat- 
ing occurred no one would give information to the authori- 
ties. 

Such reluctance cannot be overcome except by some more 
powerful sentiment. Accordingly the success of the honor 
system in this form is dependent upon a point of view 

^Opponents of this method sometimes object to it on the 
ground that it turns students into detectives or spies. This, of 
course, is not true. No one is properly supposed to look about 
for dishonesty. Responsibility implies only that if one happens, 
to observe an offence he shall help to maintain the honor system, 
by reporting it. 



STUDENT HONESTY 127 

which regards dishonesty as a serious offense, particularly 
in the light of "college spirit." Otherwise cribbing seems 
only a peccadillo, or not the observer's business. Strong 
loyalty to the welfare of the college is the only motive 
which is strong enough to overcome revulsion against tale 
bearing. Needless to say, this type of college spirit is 
rare. It signifies participation in the historic ideals of 
the institution, and it reflects itself in the character of 
the individual student, making him first and foremost a 
member of the college body. Huge metropolitan colleges, 
with their inner diversity of interests are less favorable 
for the development of it than are colleges of a more 
isolated and homogeneous sort. It requires a strong tradi- 
tional group consciousness, actively militant against every 
one who flouts its customs. The mere voting for it, even 
unanimously, is far from assuring it of success as more 
than one college has discovered. It needs not only good 
intentions, or even college spirit in the usual meaning 
of the term, but rather an unusual absorption of the indi- 
vidual in the life and ideals of the college, so that the 
interests of the latter become paramount. Without this 
there may be much college honor, but not a thorough going 
"honor system." 

Practical Considerations 

Since dishonesty "is the thing that it is," the correction 
of it is somebody's business, and this means the business 
of those who know about it and can correct it most ef- 
fectively. In so far as the evil arises from unjust re- 
quirements by an instructor it is appropriate to explain 
the matter frankly to him. If his methods are such as 
to encourage cheating, or his exactions so unfair as to con- 
stitute temptation, the class can make this clear. He 
may not acquiesce, but he is likely to change his practices, 
if not his mind. If he does not, it is justifiable and even 
desirable to bring the matter to the attention of the ad- 
ministration. Publicity is the most wholesome corrective 
of injustice. 

But this advocacy of democratic principles implies some- 



128 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

thing else which may be less agreeable. If a student 
is known to be dishonest, and especially if he abuses the 
privileges of a course and the confidence of an instructor, 
it is the duty of his associates to deal with him. It is 
usually quite possible to do this gently and effectively. 
I have more than once known a single student to correct 
an erring neighbor in a kindly way, and I think that 
this is the best method if it can be brought to bear upon 
the case. If no one is willing to undertake it alone, 
perhaps a little group of three or four, whose motives 
and standing are unimpeachable, would better act to- 
gether, showing the offender that he is disregarding the 
welfare of the college in a particularly foolish and futile 
way. The difficulty of starting such a concerted movement 
is obvious, but the willingness to do this is real college 
spirit, and the group method may overcome individual re- 
luctance. In any case this is certain: college students 
ought not to treat a cribber as though his offense were 
nothing. If he is dishonoring the college he deserves at 
least coldness and neglect. Ostracism is a most effective 
punishment. 

In making the matter clear to one who needs enlighten- 
ment it is hardly worth while to dilate on the wrongness 
of cheating. Every one understands that dishonesty is 
wrong. To dwell upon the enormity of the offence is 
likely to provoke a reaction, as against exaggerated moral- 
ism. But there are certain truths which may need to be 
explained. The first is that the common forms of dis- 
honesty are not of much use. The little aid thus obtained 
is unlikely to affect very greatly the total estimate of 
one's work; or in other words one must cheat in a rather 
extensive way in order to profit by it. As a matter of 
cold fact it is generally true that the cribber either could 
have passed without his cribbing, or has failed with it. 
At the moment the need of help looms large, but the 
emergency is probably much less significant than it seems, 
and if the stress of temptation would permit one to ask 
himself "Is this going to be really worth while?" and 
to think it over, his own answer in most cases would be 
a resolute "No." 



STUDENT HONESTY 129 

Second, the danger of detection, or at least of incurring 
suspicion, is much greater than is commonly supposed. 
Some forms of dishonesty can be practiced shrewdly with- 
out much liability of exposure, for college teachers are not 
detectives, and often prefer not to investigate a suspicious 
case unless the evidence is strong. But irregular acts al- 
most inevitably arouse suspicion. The culprit draws at- 
tention to himself by disturbed look or stealthy gesture, 
by unaccustomed glibness or unfamiliar phrase. As a 
rule, if a theme or examination paper contains much stolen 
material its face bewray eth it, just as extraordinary fluency 
in translation reveals the "pony." And suspicion sticks 
to one's reputation like pitch to one's fingers. Any in- 
structor will testify that there are certain persons whom 
he cannot recall without the flitting of a shadow across 
his memory. The evidence was inconclusive, but the sus- 
picion remains. Years afterward such a recollection may 
attach itself to one's life like a burr which refuses to 
be shaken oiF, and some new accusation may gain plausibil- 
ity on account of it. It is plainly, literally and most 
emphatically true that we cannot afford to act suspiciously. 
A doubtful reputation is a severe penalty in itself. 

Where detection follows, the consequences are all the 
more serious. I have known a record of dishonesty to 
pursue a man for years, through three institutions, thou- 
sands of miles apart, and into his professional life. The 
practice of requiring students who come from other col- 
leges to present a certificate of good character obviously 
increases the danger. No one can outlive conviction. Every 
college has upon its list of former students the names 
of some who never return to its campus and its festivals, 
and who would be scorned by their former associates if 
they did. 

The most painful penalty is the self condemnation 
which is likely to come later. The unpleasant memory 
darkens self respect like an indelible stain. There is no 
forgetting. The only escape is a larger corruption of 
character to correspond with the offence. 

Hence a fundamental need in this matter is that we 
should be honest with ourselves. While college honesty 



130 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

is a social matter, and while any honor system must de- 
rive its force in large measure from group interests, it 
remains true that our own judgment of what is right and 
wrong is of final authority for us, and that our main re- 
sponsibility is to our own intellectual conscience. If we 
know that common customs are dishonest, and that common 
excuses are sophistries, let us treat them as such. A 
college education ought to enable us to distinguish be- 
tween a genuine reason and a pretence which masquerades 
as one. To form our ideals and habits deliberately, to 
face tasks resolutely, to grasp and hold fast the truth that 
higher education does not consist in learning or avoiding 
lessons for teachers, but in self development, this is the 
educational point of view which solves the problem of 
honesty in a way worthy of the college. Most students, 
I believe, attain it. 



CHAPTER XIII 



HEALTH 



Fundamental Importance of Health, The Health Problem 

Physical health is clearly a part of an ideal life. If 
we are normal human beings we desire to rise in the 
morning with energy, to face each day with eagerness, 
to eat with hearty appetite, to work with strength, to play 
with zest, and to get "tired out" in the way which brings 
sound, refreshing sleep. The regular, easy performance 
of the bodily functions of respiration, digestion, circula- 
tion, excretion, the vigorous exercise of muscles in arm 
and leg, the activities of the nervous system, all this seems 
obviously desirable in itself. 

When we reflect upon the matter we see that the sig- 
nificance of health is revealed in its effect upon the mind. 
Upon it depend not only physical efficiency, but also mental 
efficiency and happiness. Without it we fail to do our 
best work, and we find our whole outlook upon life clouded. 
It was wisely said by Lessing that if we are spared ill 
health we can endure our other troubles. Health is the 
foundation which if unsound weakens the whole super- 
structure of life. The exceptional cases of great accom- 
plishment in spite of ill health — that of Herbert Spencer 
for example — reenforce this truth rather than justify in- 
difference to it. While physical disability is sometimes ac- 
companied by an indomitable will and extraordinary in- 
tellectual or artistic gifts, it remains true that life cannot 
be satisfactory without a basic bodily soundness. This 
is why writers on ethics universally emphasize care of 
health as not simply a matter of convenience or common 
sense, but as a duty of the first order. 

Present day civilization involves a considerable danger 

131 



1S2 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

of loss of health. Our mode of life tends to dispense 
with healthy activity, to assume sedentary forms which, 
physiologically speaking, are unnatural. For thousands of 
years man used his bodily powers to run and to climb, to 
hunt for his food, to till the soil, to make his dwelling, 
his clothing, his weapons; and these occupations gave him 
health. The progress of civilization gradually turned them 
over to specialists, until to-day we pay for almost all 
such services, often without performing others to take 
their place. Money, machinery, and the division of labor 
lessen personal effort to such a degree that many of 
us have a very narrow round of bodily activities, perhaps 
none that are really vigorous. We attend to a machine, 
or sit at a desk, or give orders to other people, and our 
bodies do not get the active use which their inherited con- 
stitution requires. We make little movements with our 
fingers instead of big ones with the big muscles of the 
trunk, leg and arm, the exercise of which is requisite for 
the healthy performance of other functions. Rural occu- 
pations have of course preserved more of the original, 
natural and healthful vigor and variety of bodily activity. 
It is in city life with its many sedentary employments 
that this special danger chiefly appears. The fact that 
the population of the country is flowing toward the city, 
and that the latter has a much larger percentage of the 
total than it did a century ago, makes the danger con- 
spicuously greater. 

With this difficulty goes another no less serious, — strain 
upon the nervous organism. Along streets and in huge 
buildings a multitude of sights and sounds beat upon our 
eyes and ears. The newspaper, the telephone and tele- 
graph give us no rest. Store windows and flaring ad- 
vertisements demand our attention. Ambition, money mak- 
ing, the struggle for financial existence keep us in a state 
of tension or excitement. In short we are very much 
"over stimulated," and the result is a nervous condition 
intensely antagonistic to health. It is a mistake to sup- 
pose that the danger disappears through our "getting used 
to it." This is a task for the race, not the individual. 
As the body becomes increasingly saturated, so to speak. 



HEALTH 183 

with the poison of continuous, unnatural excitement we 
may go our way in relative unconsciousness of its condi- 
tion, but nevertheless the nerves, arteries, muscles and 
other tissues are degenerating, and often the end comes 
with a snap, a striking headline in a newspaper, and a 
tragic blight upon a home. 

Fortunately we have become so aware of these dangers 
that we are on our guard against them. In spite of 
them our life as a people is increasingly healthy; science 
reenforces our instincts as hygienic guides, and public in- 
telligence in the matter of health grows rapidly. The 
play of childhood and youth is extending into maturer 
years; municipalities are constantly improving their con- 
ditions by enlarging public parks, imposing sanitary re- 
strictions, and educating both young and old in regard to 
the importance of health. As a result many a city is 
quite as healthy a place as the country which surrounds 
it. Yet the forces which make for ill health remain, and 
the danger is one to which we must not be blind. 

The reason for making the foregoing statement is the 
fact that college conditions oifer an excellent illustration 
of the danger. A college is ordinarily a somewhat close 
packed community by itself, or is situated in a larger one. 
Its work is primarily mental, its stimulation incessant. 
The demands of study and habits of diversion combine 
to lessen the free play of the physical organism and to 
heighten the nervous tension. Continual crouching over 
a desk, disregard of diet, relentless use of the eyes, late 
hours, disinclination to take proper exercise, these are 
some of the more common evils, and all are departures from 
the natural, healthy way of living. The outcome in a 
few cases is nervous breakdown; in many others it is 
mental sluggishness relieved by forced excitement. The 
loss of mental efficiency may not be sufficient to be called 
ill health, but it is a loss; and though the harmful effects 
of an improper mode of life do not demand the attention 
of a physician they are nevertheless stored up in the 
system, perhaps to reappear obstinately long after col- 
lege days are over. 

As in the wider field, however, conditions are such 



134 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

as to justify optimism with regard to the future. On the 
whole the college is a healthy place and is becoming more 
so. College students as a class are healthier than other 
youth. The danger of ill health is constantly met by san- 
itary regulations^ by facilities for exercise, by habits of 
right living. Nervous breakdowns are few, and epidemics 
are rare. What we need to observe is that this fortunate 
condition deserves our intelligent cooperation, or in other 
words that we ought to pay attention to the laws of health 
as a part of our higher education. 

Practical Principles. 

Without entering the field of technical detail we may 
note certain broad principles of healthy self guidance. 
First, most of us are naturally so healthy that our in- 
stinctive feelings reliably dictate what is good for us and 
what is not. Our health instincts are rules of nature, re- 
peated over and over in successive generations until we 
feel them as blind assurances that we must act or not 
act in particular ways. Thus hunger calls for food, cold 
for protection, weariness for rest, pain for any change 
that brings relief. Instinct likewise tells us to exercise, to 
play, to sing, to dance. Any alleged rule of hygiene which 
opposes such instinctive promptings lays itself open to 
suspicion. Occasionally, of course, we must avoid being 
misled by momentary impulses, or by the fluency of bad 
habits which demand gratification; instinct may err, and it 
may become perverted. But in general health is properly 
maintained by perfectly natural means with which we are 
familiar, by regular habits of eating and drinking, of play- 
ing and sleeping, according to needs which nature her- 
self reveals in our consciousness. A healthy life is pre- 
eminently a natural life. 

It is of course a mistake to worry about our health, 
and continually debate with ourselves whether this or 
that thing is good for us, or whether this or that feeling 
is a symptom of illness. Questions of food and drink, 
light, fresh air, clothing, bathing, rest and exercise are 
properly to be settled on the basis of competent advice, or 



HEALTH 135 

by judicious reflection, and then in the form of habits 
dismissed from the mind. So, too, if we think we are 
seriously sick we ought to consult a physician; otherwise 
we ought not to allow ourselves to think that we are 
sick. 

Especially to be avoided is the whole category of "health 
fads" — vegetarianism, fasting, drinking quarts of water 
daily, taking ice cold plunges, going without an over- 
coat in freezing weather, and the like. These are all 
condemned by the same fact — they are unnatural. The 
reasoning on which they are based is conspicuously fal- 
lacious, and the persons who practice them for any length 
of time usually appear to be "enjoying ill health." Prob- 
ably they are applicable to individual cases, but their ad- 
vocates make them a gospel for all mankind. Unfor- 
tunately this misguided philanthropy in propagating hy- 
gienic crotchets is often expressed in attractive literary 
form, and there are few of us who have not been im- 
pressed by such literature at one time or another. 

Scientific instruction about our physical being and the 
proper care of it is an appropriate part of higher educa- 
tion. Physiology and hygiene are subjects which not only 
belong to the curriculum of the college, but deserve more 
study than they ordinarily get. There is reason, indeed, 
for including such study among the requirements of the 
freshman year. As general reading the scientific litera- 
ture of the subject is for the most part forbiddingly tech- 
nical, but there is an increasing number of popular books, 
written by men of unquestioned scientific standing, which 
serve to direct the casual reader into safe paths. In this 
field as in others scientific truth is not necessarily so ab- 
struse as to be unintelligible; it may be stated clearly, 
and the business of popular exposition ought not to be 
monopolized by clever literary advocates of nonsensical 
fads. Fortunately the public interest in good health, re- 
sulting from awareness of the danger indicated above, has 
brought forth much literature that is reliable, and that 
is easily available for the reader who is discriminating 
enough to ascertain a writer's standing. 



136 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

Special Needs in Student Life 

(1) Care of the eyes. Nowhere does the strain of 
our civilization fall more painfully and dangerously than 
upon the eyes. These members were evolved for scrutiniz- 
ing things more distant than the pages of a book, for 
vision of larger objects than little black marks on white 
paper, for rest in darkness rather than protracted use 
in artificial light. Our abuse of them is often extreme. 
It is no wonder that the percentage of eye defects, be- 
ginning with the early years of school life, steadily in- 
creases. Not infrequently these troubles produce head- 
aches and indigestion; and counterwise, disorders in various 
parts of the body may affect the eyes. Remembering that 
the occupations into which college graduates go usually 
need unimpaired vision, and that a single pair of eyes is 
positively all that any of us can have, it obviously be- 
hooves us to take no undue risks with so delicate and ir- 
replaceable a part of our bodily apparatus. 

We ought to be careful to avoid reading in a dim 
light, or facing a strong one. Weak eyes cannot stand 
direct illumination, and bright sunlight reflected from a 
white page is harmful. Unsoftened electric light is too 
strong for some of us, and we have to repel it by the 
use of an opaque eye shade. Reading in street cars, if 
practised at all, should be limited to books with large 
print. And finally, we need to rest our eyes frequently, 
especially when reading. The little muscles of adjust- 
ment around the eyeball cannot stand the incessant strain 
of focussing vision without protesting in their own fashion, 
perhaps by inciting a severe headache. It is well to close 
the eyes momentarily from time to time, or to change their 
focus by looking off to distant treetops, buildings or hills, 
and thus give them the rest which their faithfulness de- 
serves.^ 

^ So centrally important is this matter of vision that the in- 
difference of college authorities to it is strange. Colleges fre- 
quently impose a physical examination upon all incoming stu- 
dents, but leave their vision to their own care, or carelessness. 
It would be helpful to have a competent oculist examine every 
student's eyes at the beginning of his college course, and give 
him the benefit of expert advice. 



HEALTH 1S7 

(2) Exercise. Student life does not ordinarily involve 
physical exertion, or encourage the forms of exercise upon 
which health depends. It tends to become sedentary, or 
nervously active, rather than vigorous in a muscular fash- 
ion. "Athletics" in plenty there are, indeed, but unfor- 
tunately these are the burden of a small percentage of the 
student body, while the others do little or nothing but 
exercise their vocal apparatus as spectators of the fray. 
The best of gymnasium facilities fail to tempt the ma- 
jority to take sufficient physical exercise, although there 
is not the slightest doubt that bodily health and mental 
efficiency demand this. 

The amount of exercise needed in order to maintain 
health is not large; in fact a few minutes a day is suf- 
ficient. Of course if we have an ideal of physical per- 
fection we will labor conscientiously to correct all our phys- 
ical defects by practising special gymnastics for an hour 
or two each day. But few will stick to such a plan. 
Most of us desire simply to keep ourselves in "good con- 
dition," and this may be done in a more natural way. Our 
method may be that of gymnastics, but it is more likely 
to be play, — friendly contests at tennis, handball, base- 
ball, golf, and the like. The defect of routine gymnastics 
is their monotony. Exercise needs to be joyful, spon- 
taneous, eager. Its mental conditions and effects are as 
important as its physical form. If it is merely per- 
functory, a dreary grind of mechanical movements ac- 
cording to directions, it is of comparatively little value. 
Perhaps the indiscriminate requirement of formal gym- 
nastics is better than leaving students entirely to their 
own self neglect, but it is not the best solution of the 
problem. A little vigorous play everj^ day is much bet- 
ter. 

College exercise should be play, not merely vicarious 
play by highly trained specialists, but universal play, full 
of the "play spirit," cooperative, comjaetitive, and as much 
as possible in the open air. The athletic field monopo- 
lized by a few skilled athletes needs to be supplemented if 
not replaced by a large number of courts and other fa- 
cilities for healthy sport, all occupied by inexpert but 



138 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

vigorous youth. It would be wise even to sacrifice some 
of our beautiful college lawns for the purpose. Col- 
lege men and women possess play instincts^ and it is pre- 
sumably possible to make this kind of physical exercise 
fashionable among them. The main need is for better 
facilities. One who appreciates the depth of this need 
longs to see huge fields filled with hundreds of students 
engaged in all sorts of open air contests. Something like 
this will undoubtedly be characteristic of the college of 
the future.^ 

(3) Rest. Colleges are essentially restless places. The 
association of hundreds or thousands of energetic people 
in a community with scores of activities going on all the 
time creates an atmosphere of tension and excitement. 
Study and social diversions combine to produce excessive 
stimulation, and in consequence there are many cases of 
over-draft upon the nervous energy of the organism — 
exhaustion of the nervous system to a level below that 
of efficiency. Healthy youth seems indeed to have in- 
exhaustible reservoirs of vitality, and endures the pres- 
sure without failing, but nevertheless the wear and tear 
is really going on.^ Sometimes the result is "nerves," i.e., 
a heightened irritability or nervousness which theatens 
prostration; more commonly it is a mental sluggishness, 
fired only by artificial excitement. Occasionally there is a 
breakdown which requires long years for recovery. 

The danger is increased by the prevalent notion that 
we can obtain rest by a change of occupation. Within cer- 
tain limits this is true, as when we turn from study to 
physical exercise, or from work to light reading. But 

^ In my own college certain courageous friends used to rise at 
five o'clock in the morning in order to use the diamond which was 
at other times reserved for the nine. The logical absurdity in 
a democratic institution of excluding the many in favor of the 
few, although all alike pay for use of the athletic facilities, is 
gradually gaining recognition. 

^ The nervous movements which we find ourselves making — 
twirling a pencil between the fingers, clasping and unclasping 
the hands, twisting a button, drumming on the chair arm, or tap- 
ping the floor with the toe of one's boot — all these are expendi- 
tures of energy, sheer waste. 



HEALTH 159 

there are degrees of weariness which render any further 
activity pernicious. If the brain is tired out, physical 
exercise deepens the fatigue; — what one needs is rest. If 
we are physically exhausted by hours of athletic prac- 
tice, it is foolish to try to spend the evening in study; — 
again, body and mind need rest. The point to bear in mind 
is that we actually accomplish more by resting thoroughly 
between periods of work than by turning nervously from 
one thing to another under the delusion that we overcome 
our weariness by forgetting it. 

Rhythm of work and rest is nature's law for living 
things. Study hours should be punctuated by moments of 
mental relaxation; this is the reason for the ten minute 
interval between classes, and it ought not to be abused 
by study. Many persons find an afternoon siesta helpful 
in preparing them for further effort, and of course the 
accumulated fatigue of the day makes a sound night's 
sleep requisite for the restoration of energy. With regard 
to keeping Sunday as a "day of rest," we must acknowl- 
edge that our college schedules do not encourage it. The 
tide of work and play carries us swiftly along through the 
week, and Saturday usually leaves us unprepared for Mon- 
day. Almost every one finds it convenient if not prac- 
tically necessary to undertake a certain amount of study 
on Sunday. It remains true, however, that if we set the 
day apart for peace and quiet, in reading, in attending wor- 
ship, or in walking into the country, we begin the week 
with fresh strength and optimism. 

The secret of the matter is that rest is growth. Physi- 
ologically this is well understood, but the mental side 
of the fact is less obvious, though none the less certain. 
We know how problems sometimes seem to solve them- 
selves if we dismiss them from our minds and wait for 
the correct solution to burst upon us spontaneously. We 
know too that the ideas of genius come from mysterious 
depths of the mind, so unfathomed by the individual him- 
self that he frequently regards his "inspiration" as a 
divine gift — which perhaps it is. But we do not suf- 
ficiently realize that our best ideas and purposes, our 
hopes, our faiths and our ideals, incubate during rest, 



140 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

recreation^ day dreaming, even sleep, and that in order 
to expand our mental horizon and clarify our mental vi- 
sion we need to give our minds plenty of opportunity to 
do their so-called "subconscious" work. Rest does not 
merely regain lost strength, it creates new power. 



CHAPTER XIV 

COLLEGE LIFE 

Development 

Broadly speaking, the activity of the college falls into 
two divisions, namely curricular study and "college life." 
The former is essenially intellectual, the latter distinctly 
social. Of course the two kinds of activity are not sharply 
separate; study has its social aspects, and college life 
is partly developed to intellectual concerns; but on the 
whole the distinction is clear. In this and following chap- 
ters we shall consider certain features and problems of 
college life. 

No phase of the development of the college is more 
striking than its increasing complexity of social organiza- 
tion. At the outset there was little or no organized stu- 
dent activity; in fact the spirit of such organization was 
foreign to the purpose and regime of the college. Study, 
classroom drill and religious exercises filled most of the 
day. Play and friendly association were distinctly subordi- 
nate. Any form of recreation outside the prescribed and 
traditional order was ipso facto under suspicion. 

The pioneers of the development were literary and de- 
bating societies, some of which existed in colonial times, 
and had important functions in forming student opinion on 
political topics. Most of the organized activities of con- 
temporary college life are products of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, however — some of them of very recent origin. Liter- 
ary journalism appeared at Dartmouth and Yale in the 
first decade; religious societies were organized at Har- 
vard and Williams at about the same time; and musical 
clubs had an even earlier origin. Phi Beta Kappa, the 
first Greek letter society, was founded at William and 

141 



142 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

Mary in 1776, but no other fraternities appeared for 
nearly fifty years. Intercollegiate athletics date from the 
middle of the century.^ Many of the organizations were 
of course ephemeral; the flame of some student's enthusi- 
asm flared up, caught associates, and led to the formali- 
ties of a club name, a constitution and bylaws. Sooner or 
later attendance and interest waned, and the organization 
expired. Several, however, have had a continuous life from 
their origin, and now look back upon a dignified history 
of half a century or more. 

At the present time we find an astonishing variety of 
such groups — fraternities, literary and debating societies, 
religious associations, musical and dramatic associations, 
ncAvspaper and magazine boards, department clubs, "cur- 
rent events" clubs, athletic clubs, chess clubs, sketch and 
camera clubs, political clubs, state clubs, national clubs, 
cosmopolitan clubs, and a host of others — dozens and scores 
of clubs in a single institution. When in addition we 
consider the informal, unorganized reading, talking, play- 
ing, "mixing" of everyday life we are led to take a new 
view of college education. 

The point of this view is the acknowledgment that "col- 
lege life" is not merely recreational, but is also in its own 
way educative. It does indeed afford recreation, and some 
of it has this for its primary purpose. Yet we would 
make a serious mistake if we were to estimate it simply 
in this aspect and ignore its educative function. Whether 
such function is important or trivial, valuable or harmful, 
remains to be seen, but there can be no doubt that the 
student in all his association with his fellows is learning.^ 
Let us look at the matter in this light. 

Educational Value 

The enterprises of college life have several distinct kinds 
of educational value. In the first place they offer, as a 

^ For an account of this development see Sheldon, Student 
Life and Customs, Chs. II, III. 

^ President Angell long ago pointed out the then somewhat eye- 
opening fact that the student learns from his associates just aj^ 
genuinely as from his books. 



COLLEGE LIFE 143 

rule, an opportunity to learn something about subjects out- 
side the curriculum. Not only the literary and debating 
society, the current events club and Bible study class, but 
also the dramatic association, the newspaper board, the 
state club and others are, in their own more or less in- 
formal way, self running college courses. In fact not 
one of the societies enumerated above fails to conduct 
regular or occasional discussions or practical exercises 
which teach the participants something which they are 
interested to learn. The aim and method may be theoretical 
or practical, the general understanding of a topic of 
intellectual interest or the cultivation of artistic skill, but 
it is in any case an educational aim. As a rule it was 
this rather than any mere recreational purpose which the 
founders had in mind. 

Critics of "college life" frequently fail to appreciate 
this aspect of it, the supplementary value which it hjjs 
in relation to the curriculum. The individual course of 
study at best includes only a few subjects, and necessarily 
excludes many with which the student desires to become 
acquainted. Under the most favorable conditions it is con- 
centrated in purpose and method, and it omits much which 
should enter into a college education. Especially do mat- 
ters of current interest in the college and in the world at 
large fall outside its scope. The organization of college 
life is the student's way of adjusting himself to this in- 
evitable concentration, of gaining a broader view of human 
culture. Sometimes he lets this educational activity crowd 
the curriculum into the background.^ 

Secondly, college life has educational value because in 
the spontaneous pursuit of a chosen interest one may learn 

^ It cannot be denied that in some notable instances the road to 
greatness has led not through the curriculum, but rather through 
byways of zealous study connected with activities of college life. 
These cases are distinctly exceptional. As a rule college activities, 
however interesting and profitable, are not properly a substitute 
for the curriculum. Systematic instruction should remain the 
central interest of the college student; there should be no doubt 
about this even though friends think otherwise and some testify 
that they "got more good" from outside activities than from 
courses of study. Such testimony may be true as an individual 
fact, but it does not finally determine educational values. 



144 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

to do something thoroughly and well. Such eiFort is self 
training in argumentative alertness and effective address, 
in grappling with contemporary problems, in developing 
artistic talent, and in the practice of conducting meeting 
and transacting business. Regular courses usually afford 
little opportunity for oral self expression, and almost none 
for such practical activities as the production of a news- 
paper or a dramatic performance. College life calls for 
practical effort. In some cases there is an astonishing 
amount of hard work for the love of it. 

Generally speaking, however, these enterprises suffer 
frcm inert membership. It is so easy to join, and so hard 
to find time for actual participation! Over organized as 
the college is, the various groups jostle one another, and 
many languish periodically through lack of strong self- 
support. Of course it is not to be expected that they 
should demand continuous hard work. We are justified 
in taking membership in them rather easily; and perhaps 
it is inevitable in all such associations that the burden 
should fall on the faithful few who are most deeply in- 
terested. But we ought not to be merely hangers-on. 
Occasionally it is a duty to help turn the wheels. On 
the whole it is wise to keep aloof unless we are willing 
to take an active part now and then. 

Third, college life has educational value of a social 
kind. These activities are essentially the interests of 
groups of persons who cooperate in the pursuit of them. 
The individual identifies himself with the group and so 
with the broad, healthy life of the institution; he adopts 
a purpose larger than his private aims, and thus acquires 
a habit of cooperation. When we consider how society is 
constituted, and how social enterprises are conceived and 
carried out, we see that it is of the first importance for 
individuals to learn to work together with common aims and 
common sympathies, without cross purposes or friction, and 
to find in the very fact of association a strong motive for 
doing something that is worth while. This social educa- 
tion is acquired in the various group activities of college 
life. 

For these reasons a college course which lacks partici- 



COLLEGE LIFE 145 

pation in such activities is incomplete. The student who 
graduates without having helped to maintain at least one 
organization in which membership is optional, who has 
taken no part in debate or concert, literary publication or 
athletic sport, who has not aspired to an editorial chair or 
held a role in a dramatic cast, has failed to measure up 
to the wholesome standards of college life. He is an 
adjunct of the college family rather than a member of it. 

Let us observe further that it is peculiarly the function 
of certain college organizations to educate the college as 
a whole. Thus the athletic association should cultivate 
the spirit of fair play; the college newspaper should not 
only publish college news, but should discuss college ques- 
tions with wisdom and impartiality for the purpose of 
creating sound public opinion within the college walls ; the 
musical and dramatic societies should elevate the college 
taste; the religious associations should provide instruction 
which aims at the moral and religious welfare of student 
life. Whether or not these organizations actually per- 
form such service it is properly their business. To some 
extent they usually do. Colleges would be artistically, so- 
cially, morally worse but for their efforts.^ 

We must not leave this aspect of our subject without 

* In many cases improvement is desirable. College newspapers, 
too, often show a tendency toward sensationalism and an habitual 
indulgence in slang, indecent personal comment and athletic l ^rag - 
gadocio. On the other hand, there are papers which in their own 
way are as "newsy," as instructive and dignified as coidd he 
desired. There is no reason why the college press should not 
unify college sentiment in a way which is representative of the 
common interest and of the ideals of higher education. 

So, too, musical and dramatic associations might educate the 
taste of college students more than they commonly do. American 
college songs are lacking, as a rule, in dignity, depth of feeling 
and delicacy of expression; while the production of classical 
music lies altogether outside the repertoire of most musical so- 
cieties. In the field of dramatic art notable advance has already 
been made. Some dramatic associations no longer confine them- 
selves to farce and musical comedy, but produce plays of real 
worth, occasionally reaching such a pitch of idealism as the 
presentation of Sophocles, Moliere, and Shakespeare. There is an 
unworked dramatic field in college life itself, its deeper currents 
and more serious, even tragic incidents. 



146 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

acknowledging that the unorganized forms of college life, 
the free association, casual discussion and spontaneous 
play, also have educational value. No doubt these ordi- 
narily occupy too much time, and are too often utterly 
trivial in character. But there are possibilities of real 
helpfulness in the play, talk and jest of the campus. The 
recluse, no matter how studious, loses something impor- 
tant. Casual conversation, if it consists of an interchange 
of ideas about matters of living interest, is oftentimes 
equivalent to a lesson in practical ethics. Incidental rec- 
reation serves to reveal life and truth. Of course we 
ought not to carry on this informal mingling and discus- 
sion with a deliberate and solemn purpose of self im- 
provement. It should be, as it normally is, free, spon- 
taneous, self forgetful. As such it properly belongs to 
college education. Even though we have to deplore the 
fact that this friendly association usually wastes much 
time in the discussion of utterly unimportant affairs it re- 
mains true that its participants are learning to go through 
life in a good natured, sympathetic, kindly way. 

Excess, The Problem of Regulation 

That most colleges have altogether too much "college 
life" in proportion to the amount of curricular study is an 
assertion which few impartial observers will deny. Not 
only instructors within and critics without the college walls 
but students likewise acknowledge that the incessant round 
of social activities leaves too little time for the quiet, 
thoughtful, scholarly mastery of academic subjects.® One 

° "What with so-called 'college activities' by which he must 
prove his allegiance to the university, and social functions by 
which he must recreate his jaded soul, no margin is left for the 
one and only college activity — which is study. Class meetings, 
business meetings, committee meetings, editorial meetings, foot- 
ball rallies, vicarious athletics on the bleachers, garrulous ath- 
letics in dining room and parlour and on the porch, rehearsals of 
the glee club, rehearsals of the mandolin club and of the banjo, re- 
hearsals for dramatics, college dances and class banquets, frater- 
nity dances and suppers, preparations for the dances and banquets, 
more committees for the preparations; a running up and down 
the campus for ephemeral items for ephemeral articles in ephem- 
eral papers, a soliciting of advertisements, a running up and 



COLLEGE LIFE 147 

belongs to a dozen clubs, taking little active part in any, 
but nevertheless letting each distract attention and oc- 
cupy time which should go to more significant concerns. As 
a result there is nervous tension and inability to get any- 
thing done well because there are so many things which 
need doing all at once. Occasionally, too, the mind of 
the whole college is usurped by some relatively unimportant 
matter, and peace is disturbed because of athletic inci- 
dents or fraternity conditions. These and other similar 
consequences of college life tend at the present time to 
offset its real value. 

Regulation is conspicuously needed. Yet the difficulty 
of giving these matters their rightful place, amount of 
time, intensity of interest and thoroughness of accomplish- 
ment creates a puzzling practical problem. Some col- 
leges attempt to solve it by rules forbidding membership 
in more than a limited number of organizations, but this 
method is foreign to the principles of freedom which char- 
acterize the college. Moreover, since individual capabili- 
ties and the requirements of membership differ widely, 
an arbitrary limit is sure to prove unjust or futile. And 
its practical efficacy at best is doubtful. 

Equally dubious is the effort to regulate college activi- 
ties by putting them under formal supervision, and grant- 
ing credit for participation in them. It is impossible to 
exercise proper control without overburdening instructors, 
and in consequence supervision becomes perfunctory and 
gives way to neglect. Membership is sought as a con- 
venient means of obtaining credit with a minimum of 
labor, and the desirable spirit of freedom and spontaneity, 
without which the enteri3rises lose much of their value, 

down for subscriptions to the dances and the dinners and the 
papers and the clubs; a running up and down in college politics, 
making tickets, pulling wires, adjusting combinations, canvassing 
for votes — canvassing the girls for votes, spending hours at 
sorority houses for votes — spending hours at sorority houses for 
sentiment; talking rubbish unceasingly, thinking rubbish, revamp- 
ing rubbish — rubbish about high jinks, rubbish about low, rubbish 
about rallies, rubbish about pseudo-civic honor, rubbish about 
girls; what margin of leisure is left for the one activity of the 
college, which is study?" Professor Gayley. 



148 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

is lacking. In the case of intercollegiate debating^ and pos- 
sibly the chief editorships of the leading publications, ex- 
ceptions to this rule may wisely be made, for these re- 
quire hard, continuous study or practice, and in their own 
way are subject to intellectual tests. But for other enter- 
prises the motives ought to be spontaneous interest and 
loyalty to the college. The pleas<ure of participation should 
be its own reward.^ 

The appropriate form of faculty control is that of occa- 
sional attendance, counsel, criticism and commendation. 
There is also need of authoritative coordination of college 
activities in order to secure definiteness of aim, to prevent 
unnecessary duplication, and to avoid waste of energy. 
The experiment, adopted in some colleges, of placing all 
clubs and societies under the friendly supervision of a 
single authority promises well. But in any case the solu- 
tion of the problem depends upon the good sense of the 
individual students. He must acknowledge the primary 
importance of regular study; he must learn that the col- 
lege does not need so many side shows, and would be dis- 
tinctly better off without some of them; he must learn 
the same truth with regard to his own educational welfare; 
and finally he must learn to say No, even to his friends, 
when besought to join enterprises which are of doubtful 
value, or for which he has no time. A wise and cheerful 
but firm refusal in such cases means no loss of friends. 
The problem can be solved not so much by authoritative 
legislation, elimination, restriction or prohibition, as by 
rational self control. The demand for thoughtful adjust- 
ment of interests which this responsibility imposes upon 
the student is in itself educative. 

® I recall a certain brass band which secured credit as a one 
hour course of study, though there were those on the faculty who 
stoutly maintained that its performances should be heavily pen- 
alized rather than rewarded. Other forms of activity are equally 
absurd as sources of college credit. There is no line between 
those which involve genuine study and those which do not. 



CHAPTER XV 

COLLEGE SPIRIT 

What is ''College Spirit''? 

The term "college spirit" is most commonly used with 
reference to athletics. It is the duty of the men of 
might to join the football squad, of the skilled baseball 
player to give the nine the benefit of his services, of the 
student body to support the teams financially and by at- 
tendance at games. College spirit demands hard work 
and much cheering. It calls not only for enthusiasm in 
play and in celebrating victory, but also for cheerfulness 
and encouragement in the hour of defeat, — for readiness 
to welcome a returning team with band and banners even 
though it bears a load of failure. 

But other activities beside athletics are denoted by the 
term. It includes support of college publications, par- 
ticipation in college enterprises of all sorts, some repre- 
sentative activity on the part of every student. "Try out 
for the glee club, get advertisements for the magazine, 
at least join a literary society, but in any case do some- 
thing for the college. Don't make your relation to it 
merely that of study. Cultivate a larger social interest 
of some kind." Such is the spirit of the modern college. 

College spirit is not always so praiseworthy, however. 
Its very enthusiasm sometimes perverts it into passion and 
lawlessness. Hazing, foolish or tyrannical customs, de- 
struction of property in celebrating victory, theft of sign 
boards to decorate rooms, even gambling, drunkenness and 
dissipation are occasionally regarded as exhibitions of 
college spirit.^ The explanation is, of course, that these 

^ "I don't approve of 'beer busts,' " a college instructor re- 
marked to the writer, "but I would tolerate one just to make sure 

149 



150 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

performances are expressions of social excitement. Often^ 
as in the case of hazing or betting on games, they are 
done with some superficial pretense of regard for the 
welfare of the college. 

College spirit signifies loyalty, active loyalty, to the 
social welfare. Obviously this is why the central applica- 
tion of the term is so commonly athletic: here is the prin- 
cipal unifying agency of the college, — the common in- 
terest. Here, too, is the supposed obj ectionableness of 
the "grind": his interests seem individualistic, unmindful 
of society. The various implications of the idea may be 
hazy or incomplete in the mind of the undergraduate, 
but its essential significance is clear to him: the individual 
must sink his individuality or independence in some ac- 
tivity for the group. 

"Group consciousness" is a profoundly important fact 
of society, a genuine "law of nature." Members of a 
group, and especially of an organized institution like the 
college, feel and think and act as do those around them. 
The family has the sense of kinship, its "family pride," 
the city and state their civic consciousness, the nation its 
patriotism, the regiment its "honor," the labor union its 
"brotherhood," religious sects their denominational feel- 
ing. In all such instances the group consciousness ex- 
presses itself actively in ways which are the same for 
all members of the group. It imposes itself upon all 
through exhortation, example and imitation, social pres- 
sure, even through force and penalty. In general it is 
conservative, tending to continue traditional practices, to 
perpetuate custom, to suppress individuality. It is at the 
same time the balance wheel which keeps the social ma- 
chine revolving steadily, and the living soul which vital- 
izes the social body and makes progress. 

College spirit is evidently a special form of this group 
consciousness, with its characteristic value and danger of 
perversion. It is not only desirable ; it is indispensable. It 
supplies the energy for college accomplishment and the 

that the college is alive." Fortunately, most instructors and stu- 
dents are aware that intoxicated excitement is not a sign of 
healthy vitality. 



COLLEGE SPIRIT 151 

atmosphere of college happiness. It liberates the soul for 
action in a larger sphere than that of self interest, and 
thus enables it to grow. One who does not feel its mov- 
ing power within him does not really belong to the col- 
lege. 

On the other hand it is often open to criticism, in that 
it demands unity of feeling and action without self critical 
thought. Like its political analogue, patriotism, it is some- 
times degraded to mere noise, sheer sound and fury sig- 
nifying folly. There is usually too much emphasis upon 
concerted, vociferous enthusiasm, and too little upon the 
quieter, less conspicuous implications of good college citi- 
zenship. Athletic earnestness is held to extenuate the 
purloining of a reserved book from the library, the pre- 
sentation of a copied essay, or a plunge into dissipation. 
Correspondingly, as we well know, there is in the nation 
at large altogether too much noisy "patriotism," and too 
little quiet, inconspicuous citizenship which patriotically 
pays taxes with honesty and votes with regularity and sin- 
cerity of thoughtful conviction. And, to push the parallel 
further, just as there is a contemporary demand for a 
new "civic spirit" which shall elevate and purify social 
life, so there is likewise a need of a new college spirit, 
broader than that of the common conception. The latter 
is fundamentally sound in its insistence upon loyalty to 
the social welfare. What we require is a clearer vision 
of what welfare means. ^ 

Needed Forms of College Spirit 

The problem, let us remind ourselves, is not that of 
eliminating existing forms; for the most part these are 
healthy. It is rather that of making a change of em- 
phasis, of invigorating activity along certain inconspicuous 
lines. Three such lines suggest themselves: regard for 

^ The incessant demand for more athletic enthusiasm, even in 
colleges which are supposed to have achieved perfection of this 
type of college spirit, suggests that it has reached a pitch of 
unnatural exaggeration. The mass meetings, the alumni speeches, 
the imperious complaint of the college newspaper, have a certain 
ring of artificiality. Such forced excitement is dubiously valuable. 



152 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

the material welfare of the college, personal helpfulness 
to inept students, and faithful service to the surrounding 
community. 

Consideration for the material welfare of the college 
ranges all the way from little decencies and proprieties 
in the use of equipment to improvement of the campus, 
erection of buildings, addition to endowment. That col- 
lege spirit is needed to carry out these more elaborate 
undertakings is clear; but it is not so well understood 
that it is college spirit which keeps one from wasting 
electric light, from monopolizing tennis courts, from litter- 
ing lawns or class room floors with rubbish, from marking 
library books, or which prompts one to remove such de- 
fects. All this is college spirit because it is unpaid per- 
sonal service, unselfish loyalty to the welfare of the college. 

Second, there is abundant opportunity for helping indi- 
vidual students, particularly that of giving personal at- 
tention to those who are not yet adapted to their college 
environment, whose intellectual or moral difficulties call for 
kindly counsel. The need of this is the greater since 
the increasing number of students and the necessary at- 
tention of instructors to various matters have largely put 
an end to the former "individual training." The fresh- 
man is but one of a large group, receiving so little per- 
sonal direction from instructors that the assistance of 
more experienced students is sometimes his only hope of 
salvation. Advice and counsel, judicious coaching in study, 
the example of responsibility and power without pretense 
of superiority^, all this is education, quite as effective as 
that of the classroom. Upperclassmen both within and 
without the pale of fraternity life not infrequently give 
invaluable assistance to inexperienced boys. In my own 
recollection there stands out clearly the friendliness of 
one man, older and wiser than I, whose informal but well 
considered teachings had more weight with me than the 
erudition of any official instructor. I recall, too, a senior 
who, with his head and his hands full of study and col- 
lege enterprises, devoted himself to the task of saving a 
freshman who was in imminent danger of failure and 
expulsion. He taught the boy to study, gave personal in- 



COLLEGE SPIRIT 153 

struction^ imparted such college wisdom as seemed requisite, 
and accomplished wonders of improvement. Probably the 
younger fellow had never in his life experienced such 
training. The senior was a college leader, and he car- 
ries many memories of intellectual, social and athletic 
achievement, but I doubt whether any of these give him 
more satisfaction than the service to his young friend. I 
sincerely hope that some who read these pages will give 
themselves the satisfaction of helping an awkward or 
floundering associate to establish himself firmly in col- 
lege life. Patience and thoughtfulness in large measure 
will be needed, but the ultimate return will be correspond- 
ingly great. As a manifestation of college spirit no more 
efficient furtherance of the social welfare could be found. 

Finally there is service to the surrounding community. 
It is college spirit which maintains the philanthropic ac- 
tivity of the college settlement, the gymnasium classes for 
street boys, the sewing classes for the untaught daughters 
of immigrants, the social gatherings and the religious ser- 
vices for those who lack home and church. But no less 
worthy of mention is the work which students do in self 
support, work in which college spirit signifies faithfulness, 
intelligence, conscientious sticking to business. Not all 
student labor is of this sort. In fact there are college 
towns in which the term is synonymous with carelessness, 
hasty performance of duty, attention to the twenty five 
cents an hour rather than to the quality of work done. Un- 
fortunately the name of the college is involved; the poor 
work inevitably reflects upon the institution.- In some 
degree the reputation of the group is aff*ected by ragged 
use of a lawn mower or waste in tending a furnace. Yet 
every student worker is a representative of the college, 
with the opportunity of expressing his loyalty by doing his 
work well. 

It is difficult for some students to understand social wel- 
fare except as social excitement — the singing, cheering, 
even misbehaving crowd. Just so there are citizens who 
understand patriotism only as mob pugnacity, army ser- 
vice, or mere noise. Yet loyalty to the social welfare is 
often most effective in its quiet, even solitary expres- 



154 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

sions. While inspiration and enthusiasm depend largely 
upon physical proximity, so that vociferous mass meet- 
ings are desirable, it is no less true that some of the 
finest demonstrations of college spirit are found in the 
inconspicuous but efficient performance of every day duty. 

Custom and Conformity 

The spirit of a college is revealed in its customs, just 
as the character of a person expresses itself in habits. 
There are athletic customs, social customs, religious cus- 
toms, academic customs. The practices of concerted cheer- 
ing, of holding college dances and college prayer meet- 
ings, of wearing cap and gown, will serve as illustrations. 
Some customs are practically coextensive with American 
college life. Others have wide acceptance. Still others 
are distinctly local; and, like peculiar personal habits, con- 
stitute noteworthy individuality. Thus cheering at games 
is universal, while the wearing of a "freshman cap" is 
found in many colleges, and "Tap Day" belongs dis- 
tinctively to Yale. Some customs are important, others 
ridiculously trivial. Some are thoughtful and progressive, 
some degenerate and immoral. But wherever custom is 
found it expresses the "group sense," the consciousness 
of belonging to a particular social body. The act of a 
student in conformity to custom is the expression of the 
group mind. 

It is this larger aspect of custom, its regulative social 
function, which gives it significance and makes indiffer- 
ence to it seem a serious offence. In colleges which have 
senior honorary societies election is usually conditioned 
in part upon conformity. If the candidate has neglected 
or opposed the college customs he has killed his chance 
of membership in the group of "representative college 
men." The sternness, too, with which conformity is ex- 
acted from recalcitrant students, for example the fresh- 
man who carries a cane, is sometimes in striking contrast 
to the moral indifference of the group in other matters. 
Thus if the offender is tipsy he may excite only ridicule. 
It is much easier to break laws than to defy custom, and 
the resulting condemnation by public opinion is often 



COLLEGE SPIRIT 155 

greater. On the whole the group feels that custom rather 
than law is the true expression of its character. 

Custom therefore cannot usually be established by legis- 
lation. It may be born in a moment of spontaneous en- 
thusiasm, or grow by imperceptible degrees from an ob- 
scure and accidental origin, but as a rule it is not a 
product of legislative deliberation. Its root is in the 
impulse of the will rather than the calculation of the in- 
tellect. Hence in order to start a college custom it is 
necessary to perform the appropriate action and let it 
spontaneously repeat itself. Let this class leave a me- 
morial upon graduation, this company make some excur- 
sion, or the whole student body engage in some peculiarly 
absurd "college circus." If the impulse deserves to live 
— and sometimes if it does not — it will forthwith strike in- 
stinctive roots into the soil of social consciousness. If it 
is doomed by its own futility no amount of forced repeti- 
tion will save it. 

A practical problem which arises in this connection is 
that of securing conformity from students possessed of 
strong or eccentric individuality. In every college there 
are those who look with contempt upon the ordinary col- 
lege ways, and who travel a separate road. In others 
conformity is forbidden by age, by a sense of dignity, or 
by poverty. Colleges usually have the good sense to let 
such persons alone, cheerfully excusing or tolerating, or 
at most ostracising them. But sometimes public indigna- 
tion rises to a pitch of destructiveness and destroys the 
irregular hat, or subjects the bumptious non-conformist 
to an involuntary bath.^ There is humor in such exhibi- 
tions of group consciousness, but we must not ignore their 
childish and arbitrary tyranny. Wise students of course 
conform to custom in so far as their age, conscience, 
pocketbook and general common sense permit and usually 
take pleasure in the social feeling that results. But if one 
stands aloof the cleft is not properly bridged by using 
^ A current newspaper item tells of the appearance of the 
governor of a large western state upon the campus of the state 
university on a day when custom decreed that collar and tie 
should not be worn. He departed with neck bare, but fortunately 
with unruffled temper. 



156 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

force. Physical compulsion is not the way for a civilized 
community to secure conformity. It is simply "lynch law" 
on a small scale, with perhaps a touch of the ludicrous. 
If an irreverent soul treats college customs with con- 
tempt, the appropriate recourse is that of leaving him 
alone. 

Let us not forget, also, that individuality is the source 
of reform. Social habit is a power for evil as well as 
for good, and a particular custom may be in no wise a 
blessing but a curse. In such cases there is need of some 
clear sighted, strong willed person to pull the rest of 
society out of its rut. A few years ago the customary 
graduation banquet of a certain college became the scene 
of disgraceful drunkenness. At length the president of a 
graduating class refused to attend. He was heartily criti- 
cized by many of his classmates, of course, but his re- 
monstrance was respected by others, and had a considerable 
effect in crystallizing the sentiment of the following class, 
which voted to prohibit liquor from the table. 

Here, therefore, we see a line of progress in college 
life. It is for the recognized college leaders to wield the 
tremendous force of custom in the establishment of college 
health. They can lift the college to a higher level by ac- 
cepting, directing, modifying the customs of the institu- 
tion. All the intelligence and moral force of the college 
ought to operate in its college spirit, and it is for certain 
individuals to give these qualities definite and determined 
expression. 

Hazing, Class Antagonisms 

The practice of hazing is so widespread that it may 
almost be regarded as a standard feature of college life. 
It is so questionable, however, its motives so thoughtless 
and its consequences so harmful, that it invites our critical 
attention. 

The source of the practice is found historically in the 
"fagging" of the early American college, and psychologi- 
cally in certain traits of human nature. In most institu- 
tions the superior authority of older members is recog- 
nized, and in the schools from which our own are de- 



COLLEGE SPIRIT 157 

scended this authority was exercised in regular ways. 
Freshmen were under obligation to run errands and per- 
form other services for upperclassmen, who in turn gave 
them assistance in their studies and maintained a big- 
brotherly oversight of their doings. This relation occa- 
sionally took a disciplinary form, with punishment which 
sometimes ran into brutality. As the college grew, vigor- 
ous class antagonism appeared, particularly between fresh- 
men and sophomores, usually turning upon some definite 
act such as carrying a cane or wearing a high hat. Ap- 
pearance in public with these insignia of maturity was 
regarded as ground for assault. The practice of kid- 
napping class officers on the eve of a class banquet, or of 
forcibly invading the ceremonies, became prevalent. Un- 
der stress of such excitement physical maltreatment, half 
humorous, half cruel, often followed. Frequently, too, the 
conditions of dormitory life produced friction which wore 
itself out in hazing. With the development of fraternities 
hazing became a common feature of initiation; the more 
suave the effort to secure a desirable member, the more 
ingenious and relentless the indignity when once the game 
was bagged. In many colleges the early weeks of the year 
are an "open season" for the sport of hazing. The mal- 
treatment is sometimes physically painful, but not ordi- 
narily so; the injury is rather to the victim's pride. The 
cold plunge, the cropped head, the enforced speech in 
praise of torm.entors, the long walk home in the dark after 
being carried blindfolded into the country, the nonsensical 
behavior on the streets such as selling old newspapers or 
parading with a wooden gun — these and countless other pre- 
scriptions are administered to the mind rather than to 
the body of the unfortunate. Let us also understand the 
term to mean the tormenting of an individual by a group. 
The organized or unorganized rows between classes, though 
they commonly lead to hazing, belong to a different cate- 
gory. The persecution of one student by another is so 
infrequent that we may disregard it. The peculiar fact 
which we are considering is characterized by the superi- 
ority of numbers on one side. 

The psychology of hazing is therefore interesting. In 



158 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

the liazer's mind are blended a feeling of authority and 
power^ a humorous fondness for seeing human beings 
make themselves ridiculous^ more or less cowardice and 
natural cruelty. The instinct for persecuting prey is 
perhaps more deeply rooted in us than we suppose; and 
certainly the conscious possession of superior strength and 
authority is in itself a temptation to excessive use. The 
proffered reason for hazing is always the same — alleged 
bumptiousness on the part of the "hazee." In so far as 
the younger brother shows this fault it is traditionally the 
task of his elders to correct it, and since bumptiousness 
is more likely to manifest itself to student associates than 
to college authorities, the task seems to lie in the hands 
of the former. The neophyte is suspected of failing to ap- 
preciate the dignity of the tribe, and is humiliated ac- 
cordingly. But whatever the propriety of this motive, it 
is ordinarily mixed v/ith others which are less tolerable. 
The ruling one is rather the boisterous fun of the thing, 
the amusing spectacle of some helpless wight condemned 
to the limbo of the absurd. At worst the dominating 
spirit is sheer brutality. That hazing usually has a large 
admixture of cowardice is shown by its reliance upon num- 
bers. Many a quiet, self reliant fellow has escaped sim- 
ply by defying the crowd. 

The danger in hazing is obvious. The act is essentially 
lawless and therefore tends naturally to excess. It spreads 
infectiously, recurring year after year as a chronic dis- 
ease. One of its conspicuous results is that the victims, 
helpless against their tormentors, deliberately exact a 
vicarious satisfaction from other sufferers.* Under such 
conditions the abuse goes from bad to worse without jus- 
tice or self limitation. Now and then it runs to extreme 
forms which end in permanent bodily injury, insanity, even 
death. In a recent instance the victim fell from his ora- 
torical post on a barrel, gashed an artery on a fragment 
of glass and died from loss of blood. Students have been 
worked into high excitement and then held under a stream 

* A long suffering fraternity initiate once explained to the 
writer that he was buoyed up throughout his trials by the re- 
flection that he would enjoy the same sort of fun a year later. 



COLLEGE SPIRIT 159 

of cold water, so that the shock to the heated brain was 
of lifelong consequence. Such acts are little short of 
murder. Fortunately tragedies are rare, but though few 
they nevertheless constitute a warning against the reckless 
spirit which prevails in hazing. 

Is hazing really needful? Many persons think that 
if it is properly restrained it provides a kind of social 
discipline which is valuable. The facts, however, hardly 
seem to justify this contention. In the first place hazing 
is seldom if ever properly restrained; the hazers, indeed, 
are usually individuals in whom self restraint is not a 
conspicuous trait of character. A wave of hazing, once 
started, spreads to engulf normally sober participants 
as well as inoffensive victims, and the group proceeds 
to cut a swath of outrage. Sometimes the impulse turns 
upon a solitary, eccentric fellow whose unsocial habit of 
mind is a natural misfortune rather than a fault. The 
excuse that such a one needs socializing is foolish. Haz- 
ing in such a case is brutality, and brutality does not 
socialize anybody. The actual instances of bumptious- 
ness are the only ones which can possibly justify hazing, 
and these are very few, less frequent in fact than ar- 
rogance and hypersensitiveness on the part of the of- 
fended parties. 

That there are "smart freshmen" is undeniable, but it 
does not follow that hazing is the appropriate corrective 
for their smartness. Judicious reproof and wise counsel 
are more effective in the long run, as well as more con- 
sistent with the dignity and educational point of view 
of the college. If a noisy youngster, perhaps coming from 
a secondary school in which he has been a leading spirit 
of insubordination, makes himself obnoxious, he needs of 
course to be taken in hand; but the proper method consists 
in a self appointed committee of two or three older stu- 
dents laboring with him in private, bringing his juvenility 
to his attention and recommending maturer behavior. If 
this educational treatment fails something more forcible 
may be requisite. 

That hazing is inconsistent with the dignity of the col- 
lege is a truth which our colleges are gradually recogniz- 



160 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

ing. So much of it is cowardly, cruel, futile, wanton in 
its invasion of rightful freedom, that it is seen to have 
no place in an intelligently conducted community. Col- 
lege leaders are not likely to be found participating in it, 
and the practice is disappeaing from leading institutions. 

Class fights are not identical with hazing, though they 
are usually related to it as cause and effect. Tradition 
has established an attitude of hostility in freshmen and 
sophomores; the former enter college with fear and de- 
termination not to be imposed upon, while the latter ex- 
pect insubordination and are inclined to be over sensitive. 
Flaring notices of warning, couched in horribly bad dic- 
tion, are posted all over the campus, and the at- 
mosphere is tense with expectancy of combat. The 
cane rush is the great historic way of reaching an 
amicable adjustment, though various other performances 
such as "tying up," battling for some stronghold, and the 
like, are common. Sometimes these degenerate into free 
for all fights, full of bad blood and danger of injury. 

Like hazing these practices masquerade as college spirit, 
but they are condemned by their irrationality and are grad- 
ually disappearing. College spirit demands loyalty to the 
welfare of the whole college body, not to a particular cl^ss. 
It is compatible with friendly struggle but not with ill 
natured strife. Hence the direction of progress is clearly 
that of providing substitutes for the class fight — organized 
class combats, pushball contests, the tug of war across 
a pool or stream, track meets and field days full of good 
natured rivalry. These may be held under the supervi- 
sion of upperclassmen, and they serve to outlaw the bitter, 
unorganized row. Here, as often happens in society, ad- 
vance is made by taking a custom, rationalizing it, and 
making it a law for the welfare of the whole community. 



CHAPTER XVI 

STUDENT GOVERNMENT 

The Development of the Problem 

The American college, as we have seen, faces two funda- 
mentally important problems. One is that of the cur- 
riculum — the problem of selecting from the immense and 
varied range of modern studies those which are broadly 
related to life, and of making them subjects of earnest 
pursuit. The other is the problem of social order, and 
especially of government. In part this has to do with the 
interrelations of trustees, president and faculty, but equally 
vital is the proper regulation of student affairs, and it is 
with this aspect of the problem that we are especially 
concerned. Let us begin by observing its development. 

In its origin the college was closely akin to the family 
and the church. Its life was simple, its dominating ideals 
religious, its students were youthful, and its faculty stood 
in loco parentis to them. In consequence its government 
was mainly a matter of rules and discipline. Theoretically 
this condition remained in force through most of its evolu- 
tion, but practically we observe a remarkable change; the 
college gained a certain political character. The religious 
school with quasi-domestic government became the civic 
community, or even a higher educational state — not large, 
it is true, but still in its own small way a political body. 
Its numerous subordinate organizations such as classes, 
clubs, athletic teams, publications and the like, with their 
elections, their money raising, their various activities and 
uncertain limits of authority, must be regulated through 
new forms of government. These were matters of com- 
munity citizenship, and correspondingly the student be- 
came essentially a college citizen. Government, instead of 

161 



162 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

being the disciplinary enforcement of rules, tended to 
become the establishment of laws in accordance with 
democratic sentiment. Expansion in size, the increasing 
age of students, developing conceptions of education and 
the political atmosphere of the youthful nation all served 
to strengthen this trend. 

The general tendency was therefore democratic. Even in 
the paternalistic regime of the early college there was a 
basis for this; students managed their own affairs to some 
extent, and new organizations naturally assumed inde- 
pendence. The increasing complexity of college life passed 
beyond the possibility of detailed supervision by the fac- 
ulty, formal experiments in organized self government be- 
gan to appear. The idea of a student court was proposed 
by Thomas Jefferson for the University of Virginia, and 
other colleges followed suit; but in general these experi- 
ments, except in respect to the honor system of conduct- 
ing examinations, were without lasting significance. At 
a later period we find new projects, the most elaborate 
being a complex system of government which was insti- 
tuted at the University of Illinois in 1868, and which suf- 
fered varying fortunes for several years but ultimately 
perished. The Amherst senate, dating from 1883, was 
more successful. In recent years the self governing prin- 
ciple has been widely applied in colleges and universities,^ 
and has even crept into the lower schools. 

Has student government proved successful.^ There is 
plenty of testimony that it has. Though its history in- 
cludes records of decrepitude and failure, these are over- 
balanced by cases of efficient operation; and they seem 
not to reflect upon the general principle, but rather to in- 
dicate unfavorable conditions and inappropriate forms of 

^This is true of self government of a formal type. Of course, 
student affairs regulate themselves to a great extent apart from 
any political scheme. The organization of societies, election of 
oflacers, raising of funds, conduct of social functions, holding of 
meetings, and numerous other activities commonly proceed with 
little reference to faculty authority, or at most with only a per- 
functory permission. While the old in-loco-parentis theory re- 
mains in many colleges, there is nevertheless a continual enlarge- 
ment of student control. 



STUDENT GOVERNMENT 163 

application. No democratic government proceeds without 
hitches and occasional upsets. The important question is 
whether the application of democratic principles facilitates 
a general approach to good order. On this point the evi- 
dence is strongly in favor of student government. The 
reports of college presidents, deans and faculties who are 
observing it at close range is almost unanimously to the 
effect that offences and disciplinary problems are lessened 
by placing responsibility for social order in the hands of 
the college population. 

From the standpoint of the college authorities there ap- 
pear to be three soundly practical reasons for entrusting 
governing power to students. First, they best understand 
actual conditions and needs; in matters which require in- 
telligent regulation they are less likely to slip into pit- 
falls of unwisdom, to make mistakes which demand re- 
versal and so bring discredit upon authority. Second, they 
are more inclined to obey rules of their own making. There 
is less excitement in disobeying one's own enactment, and 
justice takes a sterner form when dispensed by student au- 
thorities. Third, the faculty is relieved of an unwelcome 
burden and is left free to engage in teaching and study. 
In consequence student resj^ect is enhanced since regard 
for faculty scholarship is not lessened by experience of 
administrative incompetence. The general outcome is good 
order, an entente cordiale between students and college 
authorities, and a better atmosphere of instruction. 

Training for Democracy 

Furthermore, the college is interested in establishing 
student government because its graduates become citizens 
and deal directly with public affairs. Upon it therefore 
rests the obligation of providing training for citizenship, 
and of discharging into society not merely a sprinkling of 
cultured scholars, nor a stream of acquisitive individualists, 
but a powerful current of socialized men and women, demo- 
cratically minded, broad of vision, intellectually and mor- 
ally qualified to face the problems of our national life. 

This obligation is of especial importance at the present 
time because of its bearing upon the subject of political 



164 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

internationalism. The participation of our country in the 
war now raging can be morally justified in the minds of 
intelligent persons only as the means by which, in Presi- 
dent Wilson's phrase, "the world must be made safe for 
democracy." To accomplish this end, however, is not the 
same as to produce the democracy; the latter can come 
only as citizens and future citizens are instructed in the 
ideas and practices which constitute it. Not through chan- 
nels of force but rather through those of education will 
the tide of democratic idealism ultimately spread over the 
nations. War at best merely clears the ground; the con- 
structive work remains to be done. 

In large part the leadership in this movement must come 
from the college. As we have seen, a large proportion of 
the leaders in all departments of our national life are 
drawn from the ranks of college graduates, and this is 
particularly true of the political leaders of the nation. 
Probably to an increasing extent the men who guide the 
ship of state will obtain the ideas by which they steer her 
course from their college training. Furthermore the less 
conspicuous but no less important unofficial leadership of 
the college-bred in communities throughout the land will 
driw society into that course to which higher education 
points. The responsibility of presenting ideas of demo- 
cratic citizenship— world citizenship as well as that within 
the nation — will inevitably rest in large measure upon the 
young men and young women who go from the college. 

Is not this prospect as magnificent as the responsibility is 
grave? Is there any respect in which higher education 
is more valuable than in its potency of hastening the day 
of democracy, the day of international peace and good 
will, tov/ard which nations are now struggling through seas 
of blood? To establish this point of view and to discover 
the precise methods by which the ideal may progressively 
be realized is the supreme duty of the college at the pres- 
ent time. 

How may it give appropriate training for citizenship? 
Partly, no doubt, through sound instruction in ethics, po- 
litical science and kindred subjects. The democratic point 
of view, it is to be hoped, will receive in increasing amount 



STUDENT GOVERNMENT 165 

a clear theoretical presentation. A practical training is 
equally needed, however, and this practical training can 
come only through the operation of self government in the 
daily life of the college. The antiquated conception of 
school authority — an autocracy which imposes its will upon 
its subjects, who are inclined to rebel and to evade duty 
ingeniously — is hopelessly inadequate. It must go, and 
in its place must come the conception of an educational 
community in the administration of which all parties co- 
operate for the common welfare. This conception of a full 
fledged college democracy characterized by sound prin- 
ciples, rational methods and steady habits of government 
is an ideal for the college of the future. Student govern- 
ment is a step toward the attainment of the ideal. ^ 

Principles of Student Government 

Three main types of political organization within the 
college have been evolved, namely the honor court, the 
dormitory association, and the central council or assembly 
for the control of student affairs. The last may include 
both the others, and in fact often does so. Its field of 
regulation comprehends examinations, residential condi- 
tions, student publications, athletics, fraternities, various 
other student organizations, and occasional disciplinary 
matters which concern the welfare of the college, such as 
abuse of library privileges, theft, drunkenness and general 
bad conduct. Some of these interests may be under sep- 
arate control, or all may be included in one organization. 
In this case superior authority is vested in a governing 
body to which all minor organizations are subordinate. 
Thus the student council may possess the right to regulate 
the action of the college newspaper or of a fraternity, 

^ Every college prides itself upon being "democratic." There 
is truth in this belief, and the fact is a solid foundation for the 
development which is needed. Distinctions between the sexes, race 
distinctions, even distinctions of color, have less significance here 
than elsewhere. Generally speaking, the college does not confer 
privilege except as it is earned, and this, of course, is the spiritual 
essence of democracy. 



166 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

though it wisely leaves these to their own devices as far 
as possible, and interferes only under extraordinary condi- 
tions for the welfare of the college. The governing func- 
tions of such a body are legislative, judicial and adminis- 
trative. It not only makes laws, but it deals with indi- 
vidual offences, appoints committees to carry out college 
projects, and the like. In short it establishes and main- 
tains social order. 

Student councils are of two types, the small, non-parti- 
san senate, and the larger assembly composed of repre- 
sentatives of different classes. Which of these types is 
preferable? I am inclined to say the former, on the 
ground that it is more efficient. A large council is un- 
wieldy; a small group can deliberate and act more quickly 
and independently. Being non-partisan, it is less likely 
to develop unpleasant antagonisms, whereas "representa- 
tives" may feel responsibility to their constituents rather 
than to the college at large. In affairs involving different 
classes, or fraternity and non-fraternity interests, or ath- 
letic privileges, or a questionable utterance of the college 
paper, or the theft of a book, or a prohibition of dormi- 
tory disorder, justice is more likely to issue from the re- 
flections of a few of the best men in college than from a 
large body made up of heterogeneous factions. Perhaps 
the very fact of partisan desire for representation is a 
reason for establishing a higher point of view. In any 
case it seems to me that the most desirable form of govern- 
ment is that of a small group of seniors, men who have 
had the most college experience and who are naturally above 
petty partisanship. 

Three conditions seem necessary for successful opera- 
tion of student government. First, the student body must 
elect officials who can be depended upon to act in the in- 
terests of the college — a qualification which may exclude 
the athletic hero, the brilliant speaker, and the social fa- 
vorite, excellent as they may otherwise be, and which may 
be found in some less conspicuous fellow whose distinguish- 
ing characteristics are those of quiet firmness and thought- 
ful attention to whatever business he takes in hand. Power, 
good nature, breadth of vision, fearlessness in standing for 



STUDENT GOVERNMENT 167 

the right, — these are the requisites of the college leader.^ 
Second, there must be willingness to be governed. If 
there is continual demand for unreasonable liberties, or if 
a minority tries to upset the established order because it 
cannot have its own way, only failure can result. Democ- 
racy depends upon confidence in the wisdom and good in- 
tentions of constituted authorities, and upon willingness to 
accept their decision as law. The true democrat yields 
cheerfully when outvoted, subsides when a question is au- 
thoritatively settled, and at all times exercises faith that 
the government is doing the best it can. It is a strong 
recommendation of student government that it affords 
training in these qualities of character. 

Third, there must be cooperation between the faculty and 
the student officers. The former must resign authority 
while standing ready to help in dealing with particular 
problems. It is important to note that authority must be 
surrendered even at the cost of occasional erratic use. If 
student officials feel that a hand is over them, constantly 
ready to interrupt proceedings unless they give satisfac- 
tion, they will manifest a lack of earnestness and enthusi- 
asm. Counterwise, they must remember that they are 
responsible, not simply to the student body, but also to 
the college authorities and to the community at large. In 
matters which vitally affect the welfare of the college 
they may need to seek the advice of older and more ex- 
perienced persons. 

Of course it remains true even in the most completely 
self governing student body, that the college authorities 

^ "College politics" bear an unsavory reputation. The political 
genius of college youth not only leads to party organization, but 
occasionally to chicanery. At worst the college becomes a dirty 
puddle of cheap politics, with mud-slinging and bribery as char- 
acteristic features. Vote trading, invitation to social functions, 
even cash payment serve to carry the day. Combination on 
grounds of common interest, fraternal, scholarly, athletic, re- 
ligious, is perhaps inevitable, but it certainly ought not to signify 
the suppression of individual judgment. Successful democracy 
depends upon an electorate which pays attention, not to per- 
sonal friendships, or the glory of a fraternity, or mutual gains, 
but simply to the ability of a candidate to govern with wisdom, 
firmness and good nature. 



168 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

have the right to interfere. Just as trustees or regents 
have a right to regulate the immediate administration of 
an institution^ but show wisdom by refraining from such 
interference^ so the faculty is still authorized to regulate 
student affairs in detail^ but with good judgment relegates 
responsibility to the participants themselves. Only in 
extraordinary cases, when anarchy appears imminent and 
firm control is needed does the higher power take matters 
in hand. This point is important. Student government 
does not imply permission to do anything which ignorance 
or impatience may dictate. Mistakes are endurable with 
patience, but recklessness is fatal to self government; 
and while perfect harmony cannot be expected order must 
be preserved. In general, however, the natural thought- 
fulness of student officers, aided by more experienced coun- 
cil, can be depended upon to solve special problems wisely. 
The bulk of the testimony from college authorities, as we 
have already said, is commendatory. 

In any case student government must be regarded as a 
growth. Successful operation is not likely to come all at 
once. The plan should be worked out thoughtfully, with 
reference to local conditions and to the conceptions of po- 
litical science; this preliminary caution will forestall many 
difficulties. But formal organization, no matter how ex- 
pert, is only a first step. There is no magic in the term 
"self government" which eradicates lawlessness and creates 
prosperous democracy in a day, — in short which insures 
ability to govern oneself. Officials have to gain political 
wisdom by experience, and citizenship has to develop self 
restraint. Mistakes will be made, and any college which 
expects perfectly harmonious conditions to ensue upon 
the enactment of a constitution is likely to be disappointed. 
More than one attempt has failed because the governing 
body governed too much or too little, or because its con- 
stituency refused to accept its decrees. The principal 
danger is that of hastily assuming responsibilities for 
which there has been no adequate training. Under such 
conditions a brief period of inept activity, vigorous but 
inconsiderate, is sure to be followed by disintegration of 
authority and a virtual return to the status quo ante. Initial 



STUDENT GOVERNMENT 169 

organization is only the first step. The proper spirit is 
a more gradual attainment. 

Self-Government and Freedom 

Student government is a kind of machinery for produc- 
ing and maintaining college order — better, perhaps, than 
other kinds, but by no means infallible. Its working 
depends on the persons who compose it; in the last analysis 
its basis is individual, the habit of governing oneself. 
Its peculiar advantage is that it provides favorable condi- 
tions for the exercise of self control. By its frankness 
and justice it checks irregularities of conduct and encour- 
ages individuals to regulate their lives thoughtfully. But 
its foundations is personal self control; unless students can 
govern themselves as individuals they can hardly do so 
in combination. 

College students are too commonly regarded as college 
boys and girls rather than as college men and women — 
as grown up children whose childishness is charming even 
though occasionally vexatious. This view is wrong. Way- 
wardness, thoughtlessness, irresponsibility are essentially 
inconsistent with the meaning of higher education. They 
show a failure to attain maturity, and the failure is the 
worse when the person who behaves as a child demands that 
he be respected as a man. One who enters college thereby 
undertakes the self government by maturing intelligence; 
he commits himself to the principle of reflection. Thought- 
fulness in practical life, this is the great desideratum, not 
in the least incompatible with the buoyancy, the humor, the 
vigor and fun of college life. 

This is freedom. As we have already seen, freedom does 
not mean obliviousness to law ; it means action in accordance 
with self-imposed law. Political freedom is the condition 
in which society makes laws for itself and obeys them, 
and individual freedom has a similar implication. No 
one deserves the former unless he can exercise the latter. 
College students are really free only in so far as they 
are dominated by ideals of self development and social 
welfare. Student government is an expression of this 
state of mind. 



CHAPTER XVII 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 



Origin and Development, The Problem 

"College athletics" are a striking and momentous feature 
of contemporary college life. In so far as they consist 
of physical exercise, and especially of games played by 
students within the college, their value is unquestionable. 
They are a sign of physical and moral health. The devel- 
opment of intercollegiate sport, however, has brought 
a mixture of good and evil which is not so easily evaluated, 
and which often constitutes a serious problem of college 
administration. Let us observe the growth of this problem. 

Intercollegiate athletics are hardly more than half a 
century old. The first contest of which we have record 
was a boat race between Harvard and Yale in 1852, a 
somewhat impromptu affair if we may judge from the 
remark of a participant that his crew had rowed together 
only a few times for fear of blistering their hands. Inter- 
collegiate baseball began in 1858, football in 1872, and 
track athletics at about the same time, though these sports 
had of course existed in college previously in an informal 
and unsystematic fashion.^ 

The rapid development which followed shows three 
successive stages : first, that of expansion and organization ; 
second, the dominance of athletics in college life; third, 

* In the early American college there were simple games of 
the baseball and football type. Princeton had a boat club in 
1843. The curriculum of the colleges called for no physical 
exercise, and the college equipment provided no facilities for it, 
though there appeared at Harvard in the first quarter of the 
nineteenth century a preliminary burst of athletic interest which 
took form in a basement gymnasium. The modern type of col- 
lege gymnasium dates from about 1860. 

170 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 171 

systematic regulation. For the most part we are still in 
the second of these periods, though many colleges are 
entering upon the third. The prominent features of the 
current stage of development are the following: (1) 
Intercollegiate athletics constitute the common interest of 
the college body. The games produce the feeling of social 
solidarity called "college spirit/' since the college regards 
the players as its representatives, and witnesses the combat 
as its own. In its extreme form this sentiment holds the 
intellectual life of the college in contempt, and cultivates 
organized warfare against other institutions. (2) Actual 
participation is limited to a small part, in some cases only 
two or three per cent, of the student body, while the huge 
majority are only spectators. Furthermore most of the 
active interest is devoted to one sport, football, which has 
gained prominence on account of its combination of mus- 
cular skill, mental strategy and sheer physical force. There 
is no spectacle in all sport quite like that of twenty-two 
powerful young men trying to advance a ball up and 
down a hundred yards of battle field, with thousands of 
applauding spectators banked up on each side of the 
fray. (3) The sports have undergone scientific improve- 
ment to a remarkable degree. Severe, elaborate, long 
continued training, applied to exceptionally powerful 
bodies, has produced wonderful expertness. Individual 
records are repeatedly broken, team play is exceedingly 
complex, and the players frequently pass into positions 
in professional sport. Coaches receive high salaries. A 
special training table is maintained. Enthusiasts invent 
ingenious mechanical devices to perfect physical efficiency. 
(4) Intercollegiate sport has gained remarkable publicity. 
Newspapers systematically magnify the social enthusiasm 
of the college and communicate it to the public at large 
by describing preliminary practice, making comparison of 
contestants, and reporting contests in fine detail to the 
extent of whole pages. The result is the attendance of 
thousands at games, and the interest of many thousands 
more. (5) Certain evils have come clearly into the fore- 
ground, particularly a win-at-any-cost spirit which nour- 
ishes professionalism, fraud, unsportsmanlike conduct, and 



172 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

even reckless brutality toward opponents. There is also 
financial extravagance and tricky management. Last but 
not least, there is diminished interest in study and a false 
representation of higher education to the public at large. 
It is this phase of the subject, namely the evils of inter- 
collegiate athletics, which constitutes our problem. Are 
these defects offset by unmistakable benefits ? What is 
the net value of intercollegiate sport? How can we elimi- 
nate the bad features and preserve what is good? In 
order to answer these questions let us look at the matter 
more closely. 

The Value of Intercollegiate Athletics, Benefits and Evils 

From the standpoint of college administration — the point 
of view of the college authorities — intercollegiate athletics 
are usually regarded as a desirable adjunct of college 
education. They belong to a well rounded institution, they 
show that the college is in a class with its competitors, 
they signify college health. In a general way they serve 
as an advertising medium, the result of which is increased 
attendance, tuition fees, and fame. They constitute a 
common interest for administrative officers, faculty, student 
body and alumni, and so make for social unity as against 
social disintegration. Especially do they form a living and 
lasting link with the alumni, and a means of retaining 
their loyal support in financial and other projects, for 
college graduates continue to scan the newspapers for 
athletic news of their own college family, and games 
recall enthusiastic thousands who have long since passed 
outward through the college gates. Furthermore, athletics 
have a certain regulative function, since they exhaust in a 
relatively harmless way the energy which might otherwise 
be spent in mischief or vice.^ Of course they occasionally 
lead to lawlessness — stealing fences to make triumphant 
bonfires, tormenting policemen, invading theaters, indulg- 
ing in good natured rioting and more or less dissipation — 
but for the most part these misdemeanors are easily 

^ "I couldn't handle these hundreds of fellows at all," a college 
dean once said to the writer, "but for their games." He knew 
their value as an escape valve for blowing off surplus steam. 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 173 

excused^ since the infectious good humor of victory exten- 
uates the oifence. 

On the other hand the college administration must 
reckon with the fact that there is danger of overdoing 
athletics^ of giving the public an impression that the college 
is an athletic club whose functions are largely those of 
amusement, and whose disregard of property, not to men- 
tion public peace and quiet, is intolerable. The college 
cannot claim support from the public if it is not seriously 
engaged in genuine education. The internal administration 
may also be impeded by athletic interference with study 
and with class discipline. Delinquent members of teams 
sometimes subvert the morale of a class by securing sym- 
pathetic condonement of their delinquency, and the college 
newspaper, backed by alumni, subjects instructors to harsh 
criticism and even to insult. All this exaggerated exaltation 
of athletics militates against the efficiency and self respect 
of educational authorities. 

Balancing these pros and cons we find it somewhat 
difficult to decide whether intercollegiate athletics are a 
desirable asset to college administration or not. Let us 
see how the problem stands in relation to the student 
body. 

In the first place we must recognize the fact that the 
games are most entertaining features of college life. Every 
healthy soul has an instinctive fondness for a contest, a 
liking to witness if not to participate in it. The tribal 
spirit, the joyous desire of the savage to make war upon 
his enemies, is in us, even though it has become civilized 
and now acts by proxj^ Accordingly, the spectacle of 
representative warriors on gridiron or diamond or track, 
fighting to win victory for the college, is agreeably exciting. 
This is not in the least reprehensible. Under proper con- 
ditions it is simply wholesome human nature. 

Secondly, intercollegiate sport is a social interest which 
tends to deepen democratic feeling. Nothing in the history 
of college athletics is more creditable than their placing 
of all students on the same level. Rich and poor, aristo- 
crat and plebeian, freshman and senior, all have the same 
relation to the game; it belongs to all alike. Exceptions 



174 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

are rare, and when they occur, as in the selection of 
players from motives of personal favoritism, they are 
unsparingly condemned. The unifying agency of the 
common interest acts upon student and instructor, obscur- 
ing cleavages and encouraging friendship. It may also 
be extended to competitors, since contests provide an 
opportunity for the exercise of hospitality and good fellow- 
ship, and are a means of developing a chivalrous attitude 
in sport. 

Third, the general ideal of health and of physical 
expertness is communicated to the student body. Though 
only a few "make the team" many try for it, and others 
take exercise more frequently than they otherwise would. 
The excitement of merely watching a game offsets the 
tendency to physical sluggishness; and the moral effects 
are in part distinctly good. Sport lessens petty mischief 
and disorder by turning attention to something else, and 
by affording an outlet for surplus energy. Generally 
speaking, health promotes morals. Even the incessant 
talk about athletics, so irritating to those who would like 
to have college students indulge in more scholarly 
discussion, has at least the merit of preventing the mind 
from running to worse subjects. 

Against these merits we must set down the fact that 
athletics often interfere with study, and tend to diminish 
student respect for scholarship. The difficulty is not that 
sport actually requires a great deal of time; it is rather 
that it wrongly becomes the center of interest, so that 
one finds it hard to keep his mind on his work. The 
recent game or the coming one constantly invites discussion, 
class-work seems a bore, and scholarship loses vitality. 
Occasionally there is a concerted student demand for relief 
from study and for faculty concessions to athletics, but 
for the most part the condition is not active hostility; it 
is a dead lack of enthusiasm for intellectual pursuits. 
This is a matter of degrees. Some students hardly feel 
it. But many unquestionably lose in scholarly equipment 
for the future because scholarly interests are stifled by 
other concerns. 

Moreover, American college athletics have become so 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 175 

serious a business, and the importance of winning is so 
exaggerated, that the student body sometimes develops a 
profoundly wrong attitude — toleration of unfair practices, 
approval of dishonesty, encouragement of trickery, and 
concealment of professionalism — all in order to win. Acts 
of m.anagers and of players which are known to be dis- 
honorable are glozed over by the superficial justification, 
"Others do them and we must." On the field there is 
unsportsmanlike conduct toward opposing teams, a forced 
draught of incessant, meaningless noise which is childish 
and which often degenerates into a practised effort to 
"rattle" opponents. The result is not only a bitter and 
nasty kind of "sport"; it is an unwholesome kind of 
citizenship, for this condition means that the college is 
sending out into society men who are ruthless and who 
condone unfairness because it glorifies their own social 
group. Remembering that we learn our lessons in fairness 
largely through play, what shall we make of a play spirit 
which works in just the opposite direction? 

The evil of an over strained athleticism appears at its 
worst in the form of vice. Gambling is held to be 
"supporting the team." Drunkenness and dissipation are 
regarded as appropriate methods of celebrating victory. 
Disregard of law — an ominous thing in the view of those 
who know the growing danger of law breaking in American 
life — becomes a joke. We even find a type of student, 
the "cheap sport," who personifies these evils. Lawless, 
vicious excitement is requisite for his happiness and essen- 
tial in his character. 

So much for the effect of athletics upon the student 
body. As before, we find good and bad together, and no 
clear balance in the matter. What are the conditions in 
the case of the players? 

On the credit side of our account we may note the enjoy- 
ment of the sport and the health which results from 
vigorous physical exercise. The common effort leads to 
firm friendships, and the incidental travel and contact 
with other colleges gives breadth of view and an ability 
to "mix." At least equally valuable is the unselfish loyalty 
which the game demands, the generous giving of time and 



176 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

energy for a social purpose and for the satisfaction of 
representing the college. It is worth while to learn to 
fight good natiiredly for one's tribe^ and perhaps it is 
no mere coincidence that the recent history of social reform 
contains the name of more than one powerful leader with 
an athletic record. 

Unquestionably the strongest argument in favor of 
athletics, from the players point of view, is their discipli- 
nary value. Some men, looking back upon their athletic 
experience avow with frank fervor that it was the most 
profitable part of their college education. They were 
taught to obey orders, to keep in condition, to work 
harmoniously with the rest of the team, to face opposition 
unflinchingly, to take victory and defeat in the right spirit. 
This is "individual training" of a particularly effective 
kind. The coach, an expert in his own field, gives personal 
attention to the candidate such as the latter receives no- 
where else in college, sometimes with the result of 
producing not only technical expcrtness, but a considerable 
change of character. Many an undisciplined will has been 
bent to the needs of the game by stern command which 
brooked no disobedience, and wayward minds have been 
permanently regulated through being thus inflexibly subor- 
dinated to law. The faculties of close attention and quick 
judgment, the habits of obedience and persistence, have a 
somewhat general application; and in the cultivation of 
them the training of intercollegiate sport is truly educative. 

But there are equally unmistakable evils. The physical 
training is usually excessive from the normal standpoint 
of health, with the result that the body is not fitted for 
normal life. When the training is suspended it begins 
to fatten in an unhealthy way. In addition there is 
danger of special injury, the broken limb, the overstrained 
heart, or some more subtle organic weakness which tends 
to shorten life. The reaction of "breaking training" is 
itself physically as well as morally unhealthy. 

Further, the exaggerated importance attached to suc- 
cessful contests engenders a professional spirit, and in 
particular a win-at-any-cost spirit, which is exceedingly 
bad. High salaried coaches, training tables, secret practice. 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 177 

expensive equipment and service, all indicate an excess of 
zeal that is not properly the spirit of amateur sport. The 
unaccustomed luxury in travel and hotel accommodations 
is insidiously corrupting, as is all luxury which we do 
not earn, and the excessive publicity leads to undemocratic 
egotism. Still worse are the unfairness and brutality 
toward opponents on the field — the foul tackle skillfully 
made, the underhanded blow or wrench in a scrimmage, the 
boxing of a runner, and so on. Undoubtedly the majority 
of college athletes are clean, fairminded men, but it is 
equally true that intercollegiate sport shows much dis- 
graceful conduct, that players are deliberately coached in 
unfair tactics and brutal acts, and that under the tremen- 
dous strain of the contest good men do bad things. In 
short, intercollegiate athletics under present conditions tend 
in many respects to be demoralizing; the win-at-any-price 
spirit too frequently descends to dirty and dishonest levels. 
Let us consider, too, the ironical inappropriateness of 
the term "student" as applied to one who does not study. 
Time is stolen and interest is palsied by constant demands 
of practice, by long abseniie from classes on athletic 
peregrinations, by the familiar inability to serve two 
masters. Sometimes there arises a double standard of 
scholarship — one for the members of teams and another 
for the rest of student body. Addiction to "snap courses," 
special pleas for excuse from regularly assigned tasks, 
even deliberate and systematic cheating, are not infre- 
quently regarded as unavoidable conditions of athletic 
proficiency.^ It is painful to think of this sort of athlete 
as a "representative" of the college and of his fellows. 
The most serious charge is that of dishonest profession- 

' PubHshed statements to the effect that the scholarship of 
athletes is not only above the average, but is highest during the 
athletic season, seem to me deceptive even when backed by statis- 
tics. In such cases I would like to know what courses were 
elected, who were the instructors, how large were the classes, how 
they were conducted, how much written work was required, and 
various other facts which experience has taught me to regard as 
pertinent. Considering the rigorous demands of athletic training, 
if such statements are true, they reflect most seriously upon the 
standards of the institution. Modern college athletics, at least for 
most individuals, are incompatible with hard study. 



178 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

alism. Expert athletes are so much in demand that they 
command a price, and as payment is inconsistent with 
the principle of amateur sport it must be made covertly. 
In an ingenious variety of ways which appear innocent 
or plausible on the books the management succeeds in 
defraying the college expenses of the gifted player; as 
a result the individuals concerned are corrupted by the 
dishonesty of the transaction, and the representation of the 
college by "amateurs" who are really professionals in 
disguise is a joke and a disgrace. The surreptitious finan- 
cing of college athletics is a dark streak in their history. 
One authority, indeed, calls the decades just past the 
"period of systematic prevarication," and the evil practice 
unquestionably continues. Perhaps the distinction between 
amateur and professional athletics cannot be maintained 
under American conditions, but if so it would better be 
frankly abandoned. 

Before leaving this part of the subject let us particu- 
larly notice the relation of college athletics to those of 
the secondary school. To some extent the example of the 
college is good, in that it promulgates the idea of healthy 
exercise, and draws within the scope of higher education 
youths who would otherwise not gain its advantages. On 
the other hand the school sometimes outruns the college 
in imitation of its athletic abuses — rowdyism, profession- 
alism, and contempt for study; and though the college 
cannot justly be held entirely responsible for the evils, 
there is no doubt that its example and influence have too 
often been lamentable. 

In one respect it is most seriously to blame. It has 
deliberately and systematically invaded the secondary 
schools in recruting athletic material, and has spent time, 
energy and money in procuring promising "stars." Boys 
are "induced" to attend this or that institution; they are 
invited to visit it as its guests, sometimes with the presence 
and eloquence of the president to increase the attractiveness 
of the occasion. Loyal alumni arrange huge preparatory 
scliool track meets, welcoming all comers, and lavishing 
entertainment upon youngsters who are more than likely 
to have their heads turned by it. Of course this procedure 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 179 

implies subsequent "inducements" of various kinds to enter 
the college in whose name the meet is organized, and as a 
result boys sustain, perhaps for years, a false position 
and dishonorable financial relations for which the college 
is primarily at fault.* 

The upshot of the foregoing discussion is that the 
problem of the value of intercollegiate athletics is very 
complex. It bears upon the purpose and welfare of the 
college in various ways, and it concerns all four constituent 
bodies, trustees, faculty, students and alumni. Advantages 
and disadvantages are evenly balanced, desirable benefits 
incidentally involve serious evils, causes and effects are 
unclear, specific features of the problem are exceedingly 
perplexing. The one certainty is that the evils must not 
be allowed to continue. What can be done to eliminate 
them ? 

Regulation 

Few students of the problem believe that intercollegiate 
athletics ought to be abolished, but all agree that they 

^ The following excerpt from a daily paper reveals the evil: 

"Graduate-Manager A is at work arranging for the annual 

interscholastic track meet which will be held this year on May 10. 
. . . Besides being a big advertisement for the university, the 
meet means much to the 'preppers,' for they receive handsome 
cups and medals, and also travelling and other expenses paid. 

A is sending out circular letters to all the schools of the 

state, telling the students what is aimed at and inviting them 
as guests of the university, offering medals, cups, and, above all, 
the hospitality of the college during the many events of junior 
week-end." The latter include baseball games, dramatics, and 
other social events, the total effect of which is admirably cal- 
culated to give the youthful visitor a thoroughly one-sided idea 
of college life, and to undermine the discipline of the secondary 
school. Coldly and impartially judged, is this sort of thing good 
for the younger brother? How can the schoolboy help getting 
what is vulgarly known as a "swelled head"? He begins his 
college career in an entirely wrong state of mind, and not in- 
frequently comes to the end of it by expulsion for low scholar- 
ship. Colleges, including their administration, athletic man- 
agement and alumni, ought in self respect and for the good of 
the institution to abandon such exploitation. It is a cheapening 
of the idea of college education, and it is exceedingly bad for 
the boys. 



180 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

imperatively need regulation.^ No single specific will 
accomplish reform, however; the problem must be attacked 
from different sides and in various ways. There are three 
principal lines of effort along which improvement has 
been made and further progress may reasonably be ex- 
pected. Thc}^ are those of sound management, of faculty 
requirements of scholarship, and of student insistence upon 
fair play. 

The business of managing intercollegiate athletics has 
grown to such proportions as to demand mature judgment 
and responsible action. The complex arrangements, the 
direction of men and the handling of money call for 
wisdom and reliability. There are institutions in which 
the athletic budget for a single year runs from fifty to a 
hundred thousand dollars, and the gate receipts of a single 
game mount high in the thousands. In consequence of 
this growth dangerous tendencies have again and again 
come to light, tendencies to unwise expenditure, to sheer 
extravagance and to misuse of funds in supporting clandes- 
tine professionalism. In fact, many of the prevalent evils 
are distinctly traceable to the money root; and the lack 
of proper financial publicity has shown itself to be clearly 
akin to certain well known tendencies of American "big 
business" — not a good example for the financing of college 
athletics. These conditions are avoided in leading institu- 
tions by entrusting the management to an experienced 
alumnus who is responsible to a directorate composed of 
representatives of the faculty, the alumni, and the student 
body. Incidentally the proper auditing and publication 
of accounts serves to prevent financial mismanagement.® 

"In a few cases the extreme action of abolishing intercollegiate 
sport, wholly or in part, has been taken, and of course without 
disastrous consequences, either student insurrection or loss of 
attendance. Yet this is not the remedy to be sought, partly 
because it is opposed by the overwhelming sentiment of students 
and alumni, partly because there are better ways of curing the 
diseased member than total amputation. 

* Since much money has proved to be the root of athletic bad 
practices, it has been proposed that this be cut by excluding the 
public from games, either directly, or indirectly, by dispensing 
with grandstands. This seems to me to belong to the large 
category of reforms which are genuinely impracticable. It is im- 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 181 

One point which seems clear is that games should be 
played only on the grounds of the competitors. Athletic 
spectacles in distant cities for the sake of gate receipts 
are unjustifiable. 

Correlated with this reform is the expansion of the 
"athletic association" to include the whole student body. 
Every member then pays an athletic tax^ sometimes through 
the college office, and thereby gains admission to all games, 
as well as a voice and vote in control, in electing officers, 
and in determining matters of general policy. The advan- 
tage of this method of regulation is that it encourages 
everybody to take an active interest in athletics. It tends 
to make them everybody's business,, and to prevent them 
from becoming the enterprise of a sporting oligarchy. At 
the same time the democratic principle leads to cooperative 
action on the part of several colleges ; and dual agreements 
or larger leagues accomplish by concerted effort the elimi- 
nation of abuses and the establishment of rules which all 
must observe under heavy penalties for evasion. Experi- 
ments which a college is unwilling to undertake alone are 
willingly made in company with others. The result is a 
gradual but universal uplift of moral tone. 

The all important duty of faculty authority is that of 
requiring pla^^ers to be genuine college students, which 
means requiring them to maintain creditable scholarship. 
Faculties sometimes impose direct restrictions upon ath- 
letics, but except in so far as these are related to scholar- 
ship requirements they are hardly the part of wisdom. 
The counsels of a faculty room are too likely to express 
ignorance and impatience, and their ingenuity is consider- 
ably less than that of the undergraduate in evading them. 
Faculty regulation is most successful when it defines 
eligibility in terms of scholarship and resolutely maintains 

possible to draw any clear line between the part of the public 
which is rightly interested — the alumni, and the friends and 
relatives of students — and those for whom a contest is merely an 
entertaining spectacle. Also something may be said in favor of 
this means of keeping the public interested in the college. The 
recent building of huge stadia shows a current of sentiment too 
strong to be bluntly checked. It may, however, be diverted into 
channels of sound financial method. 



182 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

standards. In support of this eiFort there is good reason 
for not allowing first year students to participate in inter- 
collegiate contests — on the ground that a year is needed 
to demonstrate eligibility — for restricting players to four 
years, and for limiting the numbers of sports in which 
they particii^ate. These rules tend to prevent the drafting 
of secondary school athletes, the theft of stars from other 
colleges, and various evils of excess, but their main function 
is that of necessitating scholarship as a condition of play. 
That the college should be "represented" by individuals 
who are not genuine students is intolerable, and it is to 
the credit of faculties that in the face of obstacles they 
persistently try to prevent it.'^ 

The regulative duty of the student body is that of 
securing fair play. The players are their representatives, 
the sport is their sport, the spirit of the thing is supposed 
to be honest, good humored and chivalrous. No regulation 
by superior authorities can maintain the proper spirit unless 
it is supported by student sentiment. The desire for 
victory must be subordinated to higher motives in the 
undergraduate mind. In particular there are three distinct 
possibilities of improvement. In the first place, they can 
see to it that athletic representatives are genuinely repre- 
sentative of themselves, and this signifies that players are 
not clandestinely paid for playing, and that their general 
behavior is reputable. They are disgraced by the athletic 
sneak and the athletic tough who play in their name, 
whether or not victory results. Second, they can discoun- 
tenance unfair tactics on the field. If a college represen- 

' The diflSculty of enforcing requirements of scholarship is much 
greater than many critics suppose. In addition to ordinary 
pedagogical difficulties, such as large classes and the impossi- 
bility of preventing dishonesty, the instructor sometimes has to 
face the adverse influence of an administration inclined to favor 
loose conditions, and a vociferous student and alumni sentiment 
which resents any interference with the efficiency of teams. It is 
hard to discriminate between legitimate and illegitimate excuses 
for failure to comply with requirements. Cases of delinquency 
are often uncomfortably close to the line, for example, the in- 
dispensable pitcher whose percentage in trigonometry is fifty- 
nine, or the half-back who is short some thirty pages of collateral 
reading. What is just in such instances is not always clear. 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 183 

tative cuts a base because the umpire isn't looking, or 
deliberately makes a foul tackle, or elbows a competitor 
in a sprint, he deserves a sharp rebuke, hissing from the 
grandstand or a formal protest in the college paper. On 
occasion every power of the college press, of student 
meetings, of incidental conversation at college commons 
and in fraternity houses, ought to be brought to bear to 
correct abuses and secure fair play. For it is a funda- 
mental point, about which there must be no quibbling, that 
college sport must be clean. 

The ordinary undergraduate sentiment about existing 
evils is that they are exceptional, or unimportant, or 
justified by common practice. "Others do these things and 
we must" is the familiar excuse. But this ignores a most 
important fact — the college is the seat of freedom, the 
place essentially fitted to advocate and initiate reform. 
Where if not in the college may we expect that a question 
shall be considered on its merits, and an abuse eliminated 
because it is wrong.'' College education is radically defec- 
tive unless it develops a judicial, unprejudiced habit of 
mind which takes action in the right direction whether 
others do or not. The ideal of playing a game with the 
utmost fairness, of desiring to win but preferring to lose 
honorably rather than win dishonorably, of rebuking 
unfairness wherever it appears, this is surely no chimerical 
ideal for the college to cultivate. 

The most effective regulation, therefore, proceeds along 
these three lines: sound financial method, including mature 
oversight and publicity; the definition of eligibility in 
terms of scholarship, and the cultivation of the sentiment 
of fair play. These conditions are gradually being 
attained; the process of eliminating evil practices is 
actually going on. 

Professionalism 

Intercollegiate athletics, as we have seen, have fre- 
quently run into professionalism, in fact professionalism 
in college sport is a kind of bete noir, always shunned, 
but alwaj^s showing its head or tail on the field and in the 
newspapers. Not that the thing itself is bad. There is 



184 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

certainly nothing essentially disgraceful in receiving money 
for athletic performances, or even in earning a livelihood 
by such talent. The significance of the distinction between 
professional and amateur sport is simply that the former 
monopolizes effort, involves more persistent and systematic 
training, and is usually more addicted to bad habits and 
manners — ruthlessness, trickery, unscrupulous readiness to 
take advantage of an opponent, and so on. The amateur 
is supposed to play for fun and to conduct himself as a 
gentleman. Though the distinction is far from clear or 
reliable, it signalizes an important truth — that sport is 
most likely to be honorable when there is nothing at stake 
but honor. Accordingly it appears desirable to conduct 
college athletics strictly on an amateur basis. 

The difficulty of doing this, however, is very great, and 
the vexatiousness of the problem arises in part from 
the fact that the proper application of the terms amateur 
and professional is not clear. There are various kinds of 
reward for services, and no sharp line between those which 
are legitimate and those which are not. It is professional, 
of course, to accept money for playing, but not so to 
accept medals or cups; yet the latter have a money value, 
and are sometimes sold for cash. It is wrong to award 
a scholarship or give free board at a training table merely 
because of athletic proficiency; but suppose the recipient 
to be a fellow who deserves the scholarship on other 
grounds, or who pays all he can afford for board which 
costs much more — is he then an amateur? Uniforms are 
perhaps reasonably regarded as accessories of the game 
to which the player is entitled; but does the same category 
include expensive sweaters, blankets, and mementos of the 
season? And what about travelling expenses and luxurious 
hotel accommodations? These are not pay in the narrow 
meaning of the term, but they constitute rewards which 
are not simply honor, and which serve as motives for 
participation. Apparently college athletics cannot be 
conducted without expenses so large that the bills must 
be paid by persons other than the participants; but this 
inevitably raises puzzling questions concerning proper and 
improper emoluments. 



INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS 185 

Secondly, covert professionalism cannot be detected. 
Direct or indirect payment for playing summer baseball 
is beyond control, and there is also occasional participation 
in other sports for money, and paid coaching of school 
athletics, all of which goes under cover of an assumed 
name or other conditions which are "safe." Even more 
insidious is the indirect payment for athletic services. 
Undeserved scholarships are distributed, bills for room 
rent are never presented to the occupant, board bills are 
cancelled, fictitious wagers are won, worthless articles are 
sold for high prices, and the like. Competent athletes 
have been munificently rewarded for the burdensome labor 
of winding a clock, presumably of the eight day kind, and 
for strolling around the athletic field to assure the man- 
agement that the fences needed no repairing. Clever 
players have often been entirely supported by wealthy 
alumni, ostensibly on philanthropic grounds. Concealment 
of pecuniary transactions has become a fine art, and pre- 
varication a fixed custom. Against this sort of evasion 
neither pledges of honor nor available detective skill are 
effective. The parties to the surreptitious business are of- 
ten the only ones who have the evidence, and while each of 
two competing teams may be aware of each other's profes- 
sionalism it would be regarded as highly dishonorable as 
well as manifestly injudicious to reveal the facts. College 
athletes live in houses of glass — and throw no stones. 

The condition which confronts us, then is this. 
Strictly amateur sport, in which the participant plays for 
fun and pays his own expenses, hardly exists in inter- 
collegiate athletics; the latter are expensively supported 
by the spectators, and are permeated by a desire of winning 
rather than by a love of playing. On the other hand 
professionalism of the flagrant sort is outlawed; individual 
performance for pay is not permitted if it can be helped. 
Between these extremes lies the actual state of affairs, 
complex and puzzling. It is not amateur sport, even 
though it pretends to be; it is not professional sport, 
even though it includes a considerable amount of covert 
professionalism. Ought we to tolerate it, to try to define 
it satisfactorily, to regard it as approximately the solution 



186 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

of the problem? Or ought we to make an end of its 
intricacies of "eligibility" and perhaps also of its elaborate 
organization and huge expensiveness ? 

It is sometimes proposed that colleges abandon the 
troublesome distinction between amateur and professional 
athletes^ and insist simply that a player who represents it 
shall be a genuine student; in good college standings and 
unpaid by any college agency. This, it is said, would 
largely remove the temptation to prevaricate, and if re- 
enforced by financial publicity and by the exclusion of 
first year students from varsity teams, would not involve 
a lowering of the moral tone of the sport. The amount 
of professional spirit thus introduced into college games 
would not constitute a serious problem; bad habits, bad 
manners, the win-at-any-cost motive would not appear 
conspicuously greater than at present. I believe this to 
be true. College athletics need nothing more than proper 
publicity and clear evidence of seriousness of student 
purpose. The principal reforms have been made along 
these lines. But conditions are still far from satisfactory; 
too often the athlete is not studious, and the financial 
management is shrewdly unscrupulous. Until better condi- 
tions are assured it is doubtful whether we ought to 
abandon present safeguards. 



CHAPTER XVIII 



FRATERNITIES AND SORORITIES 



Origin and Development 

The causes of fraternity and sorority organization are 
found in certain instincts of human nature^ particularly 
the "group instinct" of flocking together upon a basis of 
common sympathies and purposes^ the instinct of secrecy, 
which seeks to protect intimate personal aff'airs from the 
gaze of the outer worlds and of course the universal ten- 
dency to imitation. Everywhere in society, in all stages 
of civilization, these instincts may be observed at work. 
They have created manifold secret societies, patriotic, 
industrial, social and religious, some of them huge in size 
and power. They are usually idealistic in motive, and this 
is especially true of college fraternities. Nothing could be 
more admirable than the moral aims proposed by their 
founders. The Constitution of the United States is hardly 
more dignified than the utterance of young men in forming 
a fraternity. Ritual, motto, grip, and badges, though in- 
trinsically unimportant, are zealously guarded as symbols 
of personal and social idealism. 

College and university life has always produced special 
groupings of students. The "nations" of the early Euro- 
pean universities are a historic illustration. In the colonial 
colleges literary and debating societies played a noteworthy 
part, and the modern fraternity is in some sense an 
outgrowth of these. The first "Greek letter" society was 
Phi Beta Kappa, which was founded in 1776 at the College 
of William and Mary by a group of earnest souls who 
desired to express in concrete form their ideals of friend- 
ship, scholarship and patriotism. As a parent body it 
authorized the establishment of "chapters" at Yale, Har- 

187 



188 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

yard and Dartmouth and other colleges. After some years, 
however, it renounced its secret character and became 
distinctly a scholarly and honorary organization. Others 
appeared in the early part of the nineteenth century; 
between 1820 and 1830 three originated at Union College, 
and thereafter fraternity and chapter origins were fre- 
quent. The extension of higher education to women led 
to the formation of sororities, the first one of national 
scope being Kappa Alpha Theta, which was organized at 
De Pauw in 1870.^ 

The development of college fraternities may be divided 
into two periods. During the first, which continued through 
most of the last century they were simply societies of 
kindred spirits, holding regular meetings for literary and 
social purposes in unpretentious lodge rooms, having un- 
important secrets, and binding members together by strong 
ties of friendship and common activity. At first there was 
opposition to them, both within and without the college 
walls. College authorities and the interested public feared 
the growth of irresponsible power, or suspected the perpe- 
tration of immoral practices. Other students often resented 
being left outside the fold. In general, however, the 
societies maintained themselves in the face of opposition. 
When discountenanced or suppressed they lurked on in 
deeper secrecy or gave way to other types of organization. 
In time the opposition waned and they gained a recognized 
place in college life. 

The second stage of development covers the last thirty 
or forty years. It is characterized by the increasingly 
dominant influence of fraternity interests in the life of 
members, and by the "fraternity house" as a college home. 
In this period, also, certain menacing features appeared^ 
particularly social exclusiveness and distraction from study. 
Signs of a third period are distinctly visible, however, since 

* In some institutions, notably Harvard, Yale, Princeton, the 
older colleges for women, and many of the small colleges, fra- 
ternities and sororities, either do not exist, or else play an 
insignificant part in college life. State legislatures have occa- 
sionally outlawed them from state universities, and the women's 
colleges have in several instances deliberately given them up. As 
a rule their place is taken by clubs constituted on other principles. 



FRATERNITIES AND SORORITIES 189 

the unmistakably bad effects upon individual members and 
upon the college dispose all parties to eliminate the evils 
and to make the fraternity instrumental to the general 
welfare. 

There are at present some thirty-three college fraterni- 
ties and seventeen college sororities having a general or 
national organization^ beside fifty or more professional 
and technical school fraternities which have no college 
chapters. In addition there are many "local fraternities" 
existing in single institutions. The national bodies publish 
magazines containing fraternity and college news, and 
their conventions are often made impressive by the presence 
of distinguished leaders of public affairs. 

The total membership, alumni and undergraduate, is 
about three hundred thousand. Fraternity organization, in 
fact, enrolls approximately half the college students in 
the countr}^, though the percentage varies greatly in dif- 
ferent institutions. The character of the membership is 
for the most part admirable. The alumni ranks include 
presidents, judges of the Supreme Court, senators and 
representatives, dignitaries of the church, and distinguished 
captains of industrial and commercial life. Undergraduate 
chapters contain a large proportion of the ablest students 
in the college, those having broad interests and superior 
mental ability. There is in general a praiseworthy desire 
to develop a rounded character by choosing for associates 
men of varied interests, representative of different aspects 
of college life; fraternities are well aware that an intercol- 
legiate debater, a half back and the editor of the college 
paper may possess a common good fellowship. On the 
other hand the character of a chapter tends to become 
fixed b}^ a process of instinctive selection which draws into 
its ranks those who possess certain agreeable qualifications. 
Thus certain groups are characterized by scholarship, by 
wealth, by social activity, and sometimes by worse traits. 

The current period of fraternity development is char- 
acterized by the fraternity house. About half the total 
number of college chapters have dwellings which they 
have rented, bought or built for their own purposes. 
These are in some instances an outgrowth of a compact 



190 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

dormitory life. In colleges without dormitories, and 
particularly in the state universities, the fraternity house 
has come almost by necessity, being decidedly preferable 
to isolated and perhaps neglected rooms in lodging houses. 
The more luxurious dwellings, sometimes costing from 
fifty to a hundred thousand dollars, provide the expensive 
appurtenances of club life. Occasionally they are financial 
incubi, constant sources of debt or burdens to loyal alumni. 
The fraternity house is also the source of many administra- 
tive problems which trouble college authorities. 

The Value of the Fraiernity 

The fundamental advantage of the fraternity is that it 
constitutes a college home. The term has deep significance. 
Broadly speaking, home life is by far the most effective 
system of social and moral education; in respect to essen- 
tials of character almost everybody is what his home has 
made him. On entering college, however, one usually 
passes beyond the immediate range of these home influ- 
ences. Neither the populous dormitory nor the solitary 
"furnished room to let" is homelike. If the student is 
mature or self dependent he gets along well enough, except 
perhaps for occasional loneliness or the loss of some 
refining influences. But for many the situation is unhappy, 
and precisely here the fraternity often proves helpful. 
It may provide living accommodations better than those 
of dormitory or boarding house — many fraternities show 
superior refinement in their material advantages; but in 
any case it enmeshes every member with a network of 
personal relations. They are friendships, and more; they 
deserve the name of "brotherhood." They may be and 
often are like the relations within a well regulated family, 
sympathetic, mutually helpful, lifelong. Returning alumni 
enter the fraternity house as they would reenter their 
own homes, and become at once, simply and unaffectedly, 
the big brothers of "the boys." Visiting members of other 
chapters are received with the unpretentious hospitality of 
kinsfolk. Indeed, wherever the wayfarer finds a group 
of college youth wearing his own mystic letters he is. 
assured of being "at home." 



FRATERNITIES AND SORORITIES 191 

Out of this material comfort and personal intimacy 
grows another advantage, namely "individual training." 
The freshman, descending from his exalted position as a 
desirable candidate and from the solemn ceremony of 
initiation, finds himself a humble servant of the common 
weal. Broom, coal shovel and lawn mower round off 
obtrusive corners of individuality. If he is lazy or 
refractory he is appropriately disciplined. If he needs 
polish, acquaintance with social usages and conventionali- 
ties, he may acquire these more easily from fraternal 
example than from the casual associations of dormitory 
or commons. If he flounders in studies, perhaps receiving 
little personal attention from instructors, older brethren 
can help him, making themselves tutors and giving detailed 
instruction such as the teacher of hundreds cannot give. 
Thus in a variety of ways the unfledged youngster may 
learn to use his own powers in his college home. 

Fraternity life also gives valuable training in administra- 
tive afl'airs, since the offices of president, chairman, treas- 
urer, steward, committee member, delegate, and the like, 
all call for skill in dealing with men and things. Practical 
responsibility is a most efficient school, and the task of 
engineering a fraternity may help to prepare one for 
managing the business of a corporation. The regular busi- 
ness meetings of the chapter give helpful training.^ 

^ Some of the best parliamentary procedure I have seen was 
that of a certain fraternity. Regular business, special business, 
committee reports and assignments, all flowed by smoothly and 
swiftly, with orderly waves of open debate. The visitor found 
himself thinking, "Oh, that faculty meetings might proceed like- 
wise !" Perhaps the presiding officer's combination of college 
experience, intense vigor and dark red hair had something to do 
with the matter. He was a youth who was destined to make 
things go, and I have no doubt that in larger ways he is doing 
it still. 

In this connection I may mention an odd custom of the same 
fraternity called "the stool." When business affairs had come to 
an end, a chair was placed in front and upon this a member 
designated by the chairman took his seat, facing his brethren, who 
proceeded to criticize him with a frankness that was startling. 
Approbation and reproof were judiciously blended. Cheerful dis- 
position and lazy habit received their just dues. The humbled 
brother grinned uncomfortably, but bore the pungent remarks 



192 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

A third advantage of fraternity organization is found 
in the opportunity for service to the college. The frater- 
nity can encourage and support college enterprises, 
athletic, musical, literary. It can take a vigorous and at 
the same time honest part in college politics, rising above 
partisanship and casting its votes for those who are best 
qualified to administer student affairs. It can hold the 
unstudious to their duties; in fact many fraternities have 
been led to see that an attitude of indifference to scholar- 
ship is bad for the fraternity itself, and have instituted 
systematic efforts to maintain creditable standing, securing 
information with regard to delinquent members, and prod- 
ding or prying them out of their slothful rut. In matters 
of college honor it can cooperate with college authorities 
in holding individuals to high standards and bringing 
offenders to justice. In these and other ways it can make 
its strength of organization instrumental to the college 
welfare, and thus attain a higher individuality of its 
own. Fortunately the fraternities are actually gaining this 
wider vision of service. 

Fraternity Evils 

The fraternity has its darker side, however, and this 
is usually the outside. The benefits are most apparent to 
those within; the evils are more conspicuous to college 
authorities and to the surrounding community. 

In the first place it is universally acknowledged that the 
current practices of "rushing" and pledging candidates in 
the opening weeks of the college year are bad. Sometimes 
the incoming student hardly sets foot upon the campus 
before he falls into the hands of fraternity scouts. The 
latter even accost him at the depot or board his train at 
a distance in order to obtain a preliminary survey of a 
possible candidate. Thereafter the hapless wight is con- 
tinuously rushed through a succession of social affairs 
which hardly allow him time for sleep, to say nothing 
of study. Fraternity committees may parcel out his hours 

without ill temper. I was assured that the practice had proved 
itself a salutary method of social discipline. It was family 
frankness with formal decorum and no spite. 



FRATERNITIES AND SORORITIES 193 

among themselves, one party promptly taking charge 
of him when the allotted time of its predecessor 
has expired. For daj^s and nights the freshman hears little 
beside fraternity talk. Similarly in the case of sorority 
women there is an incessant round of social affairs. A 
dozen or more luncheons, dinners, picnics and parties are 
thought necessary to maintain an attractive social front. 
That this sort of thing is a bad start in the college year 
is perfectly clear. For the freshman it is not only an 
interference with work, but it strongly suggests that a 
college course is a huge social function; and though he 
is undeceived later he retains the feeling that fraternity 
affairs have a rightful dominance over other college inter- 
ests. For upper classmen likewise the effort is one of 
unwholesome distraction from college work, and occasion- 
ally of bitter competition with rival fraternities, in which 
the larger unities of college life are entirely ignored. All 
parties begin the year wrong. 

The result of this haste is sometimes serious misjudg- 
ment on both sides. The fraternity does not have time 
to determine whether a candidate really possesses the 
requisite qualities of character. If he is well behaved, 
has a genial manner, presents a good appearance, and is 
likely to fall into the clutches of another fraternity, he 
receives a "bid," and in consequence the group discovers 
that it has acquired a burden under which it must labor 
for years ; or an initiate finds himself in a group which 
is thoroughly uncongenial. Entertainers and entertained 
have been on their best behavior, and have not displayed 
the habitual nature which is the only proper basis of 
choice. The fact that such misfits are so few, and that 
all parties usually try to make the best of the matter, 
does not extenuate the badness of the method of selection.^ 

^ The new companionships are sometimes demoralizing in the 
extreme. Boys find themselves engulfed in the vortex of a wild 
life from which they cannot escape. At the worst the fraternity 
house has been a sink of iniquity. For the most part, however, 
the fraternity diversions are not vicious; comparatively little 
immorality in college can be charged to fraternity organization. 
More commonly the evil is the loss of educational purpose, and 
the easy, good-natured drifting into a round of social activities. 



194 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

Fraternity life interferes with study. There are frater- 
nities, it is true, which have made a distinguished record 
in scholarship, but the general level has been unscholarly. 
Statistics show clearly that there is a larger percentage 
of failure and of low grades among fraternity than among 
non-fraternity students. This fact is the more significant 
if, as some critics think, the former possess superior natural 
ability. 

The causes of this condition are found, of course, in the 
social distractions of fraternity life, and particularly in 
these which characterize the fraternity house. A friend 
drops in with some interesting news. Another friend be- 
gins to bang the piano and three more attempt to sing. 
A fourth hand is needed at whist. The committee on 
something or other must hold a meeting; and so on. The 
many social affairs require planning; they also invite much 
conversational waste of time, anticipatory and retrospective. 
The fundamental difficulty, however, is not the actual 
monopoly of time by social functions, but rather the dis- 
traction of interest. As one's time is not acknowledged to 
be one's own, and all sorts of good natured interruptions 
are frequent, educational earnestness gradually yields to 
the habit of good fellowship. In the case of sorority 
women the social excitement is sometimes so sustained 
as to interfere with health and produce a nervous or 
exhausted condition in which study is impossible. 

Much current criticism of fraternities and sororities 
alleges a pernicious separation from the life and ideals 
of the college. Their purposes, interests and habits, it 
is pointed out, are divisive rather than cooperative. Where- 
as there ought to be a constant community interest on the 
part of all, the fraternity organization tends to replace 
this with the interests of an exclusive circle; it breaks 
up the living organism of the college into fractious and 
troublesome parts. The evils are increased by fraternity 
residence off the campus, since the fraternity house is 
self sufficient and becomes unregardful of the college at 
large. The little group stands aloof, contented with its 
own society. It makes laws for itself and obeys few 
others. Or, if it takes part in the life of the college it 



FRATERNITIES AND SORORITIES 195 

does so in partisan fashion, pulling and hauling against 
other fraternities in matters of college government. By 
working political deals with its opponents it nominates its 
own members for college offices, often without regard for 
competency, and succeeds in electing them. The glorifica- 
tion of the fraternit}^ is the dominant motive; the elders 
in the group preach the doctrine of "fraternity first" to 
younger members. Occasionally there is concerted oppo- 
sition to college authority. The organization systematizes 
dishonesty in class work and examinations, shields offenders 
from detection and penalty, stands solidly by the culprit 
with a loyalty worthy of a better cause.* 

It is a frequent accusation that the fraternity is "undemo- 
cratic." The term is used in a social rather than in a 
political sense, however; it signifies a self appointed 
aristocracy, essentially snobbish in its attitude toward non- 
fraternity students. The privilege of selecting one's asso- 
ciates is of course unquestionable, but when social exclu- 
siveness is carried to the point of refusing to recognize 
other students it becomes intolerable. Many critics feel 
that the very nature of fraternit}^ organization is incom- 
patible with the general freedom and equality which should 
characterize student life. 

Regulation 

The attitude of college authorities toward Greek letter 
societies was for some time, and in certain colleges still 
is, that of opposition. Presidents, faculties, trustees and 
even state legislatures have suppressed them by personal 
mandate or prohibitory enactment. Historically, however, 
they have usually overcome such opposition, and on the 
whole the repressive policy may be said to have failed. 
The natural law according to which large groups sub- 

* An illustrative case is that of the behavior of a sorority, one 
of whose members was suspended. In accordance with the rule 
governing such offences, she was forbidden to enter the college 
buildings; nevertheless, her sisters repeatedly entertained her in 
their rooms, and at length took her to dinner in the college din- 
ing hall. It required the suspension of a large part of the 
chapter to make it clear that the law was to be obeyed. 



196 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

divide into small ones, and the underlying disposition to 
seek congenial society, inevitably bring substitutes for the 
outlawed fraternities, substitutes which are in some cases 
quite as objectionable in point of secrecy and exclusive- 
ness.^ 

The proper administrative attitude is not that of indif- 
ference, however. Through most of their history college 
authorities have regarded fraternities as student affairs of 
the kind which are wisely left to student control. But 
this attitude is no longer safe. Fraternities have assumed 
such a central position in college life as to demand official 
attention. With all their advantages they are unmistakably 
the seat of numerous evils. The fraternity house, in 
particular, inevitably creates problems for the college 
administration. Simply to ignore these and let the orga- 
nizations alone is therefore virtually to sanction unwhole- 
some conditions. 

The proper attitude, therefore, is that of cooperative 
regulation. Fraternities as a rule are not only desirous 
of maintaining the college welfare — full of "college spirit" 
according to their somewhat imperfect lights — but are also 
aware of their defects and ready to participate in reform. 
Though they fear individually to undertake restrictive 
innovations and display an independence which rebels 
against arbitrary or dictatorial treatment, they neverthe- 
less take kindly to sympathetic assistance, and are ready to 
accept wise guidance. Their large power as instruments 
of college welfare makes it desirable to take advantage of 
this cooperative spirit. 

A policy of cooperative regulation implies that the com- 
mon problems of the fraternities, especially those which 
involve relation to the college administration, should be set- 
tled by a committee of representatives of the several groups, 
acting with faculty assistance or faculty sanction. Such a 

^ In most of the prominent colleges for women sororities have 
been suppressed or radically modified, usually, I think, as a 
check to social exclusiveness*. Some one has said that whereas 
a fraternity is a closed circle of men facing outward, a sorority 
is a circle facing inward. Certainly, the two bodies do not pre- 
sent the same problem. It is too soon, however, to say with as- 
surance whether the prohibition is effective. 



FRATERNITIES AND SORORITIES 197 

body can make rules for rushing, pledging, and initiation, 
for the control of social functions, and for conduct in 
house or dormitory. It can replace mutual antagonism, 
reckless competition and underhanded self seeking, by har- 
monious action for the welfare of all concerned. Its very 
importance and responsibility tend to insure wisdom of 
action. 

Apart from such joint action the individual fraternity 
may cooperate with the college administration by assuring 
itself that initiates are in good college standing, neither de- 
ficient in studies nor subject to college discipline. It may 
also maintain a creditable standard of scholarship by bring- 
ing pressure upon delinquent members. In some cases it is 
desirable that an alumnus or faculty friend be given super- 
visory authority within the chapter. Such an elder brother 
will offer needful advice, keep a watchful eye upon finances 
to avoid disgraceful debts, and in general give the fra- 
ternity the benefit of his mature experience and thorough 
perspective of college life.^ 

In the Greek letter society as in other human institu- 
tions — and in human character generally — the good and 
the bad are very much mixed. Whether the good out- 
weighs the bad, whether there is a net benefit or a 
net loss, is a question which is differently answered by 
experienced college observers. Of three facts, however, 
we may be sure: first, the fraternitj^ is here to stay; 
second, it has large potency for good in the life of the 
college as well as that of its members ; third, it needs 
firm, systematic and sympathetic regulation. 

By way of postscript let us note the danger that frater- 
nity membership will be deemed a more important feature 
of college life than it really is. At least fifty j^er cent of 
the college students of the country do not belong either 
to national or to local societies. Some do not desire 
membership, some are not desired as associates, some 

* Some fraternities have found it practicable to employ a na- 
tional secretary, on salary, who visits all the chapters, scru- 
tinizes affairs in a friendly way, and, if necessary, consults with 
the college authorities in regard to regulation. 



198 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

cannot afford the expense of fraternity life. In general 
these non-fraternity students get along very well, perhaps 
quite as well on the whole as do the members of fraternities. 
While there are a few who are rendered unhappy by 
being left out of the mystic circles, most take their lot 
as a matter of course, and are too healthy minded to 
lament it. On occasion non-fraternity students find it 
possible to unite both for political and for social purposes. 
It is well to remember that Greek letter societies, after 
all, are only highly complex instruments of friendship and 
service. Any one who desires to serve may do so; any 
one who deserves friends is likely to win them, without 
as well as within the fraternity circle. 



CHAPTER XIX 

COLLEGE RELIGION 

The Religious Character of the College 

The American college has always conducted its work in 
the name of^ or at least in sympathy with religion. At the 
outset^ as we have seen^ its religious motives were thor- 
oughly ingrained, permeating both its curriculum and its 
daily life. To inculcate the true Christian faith was, as 
many a college charter shows, a primary object of its 
foundation. 

Of course this early doctrinal piety and narrow sectarian- 
ism necessarily gave way to more liberal views. As the 
surrounding culture developed the curriculum gained 
breadth and independence; living acquired a more secular 
character; and while certain formal requirements remained, 
particularly that of daily attendance at chapel, the general 
tendency was away from an authoritative propagation of 
religion. Certain colleges, as Williams, explicitly an- 
nounced their religious freedom, and state universities 
often found that the safest attitude toward conflicting 
creeds was indifference to all.^ The percentage of grad- 
uates entering the ministry declined. Now and then 
waves of free thinking appeared, and atheistic books 
received more eager perusal than authorized texts. It is 
reported that at Yale and Princeton at the beginning of the 
nineteenth century hardly a handful of students professed 
Christianity. The passing decades show some antagonism 
and more indifference to religion. ^ 

Nevertheless the college atmosphere has usually been 

^ Even in colonial times we find evidence of this. The charter 
of Brown University contains provisions expressly intended to 
maintain religious freedom. 

2 See Thwing, History of Higher Education in America, p. 381. 

199 



200 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

charged with religious interest. Some denominational col- 
leges have continued the early tradition^ prescribing Bible 
study and exercising a prayerful watchfulness over the 
lives of students. Many have resorted to "revivals" from 
time to time in order to evoke religious zeal. Almost all 
have cultivated religious interest in the form of student 
organizations^ the Young Men's and Young Women's Chris- 
tian Associations and a score of smaller societies, all of 
which are constantly striving to deepen the spiritual cur- 
rents of student life. Under their auspices Bible study has 
become popular, sometimes to the extent of enrolling a 
large majority of the student body in regular classes.^ 
Though the custom of opening curricular class hours with 
prayer has all but disappeared, the spirit of instruction is 
uniformly reverent. College teachers worship a God of 
Truth. 

It is therefore a mistake to suppose that the college is 
less religious than formerly. Rather is it equally religious 
in a new way. Whatever its loss of doctrinal teaching and 
formal practice, this is overbalanced by new forces of or- 
ganized service, by improved instruction in the history and 
philosophy of religion, and especially by the development 
of breadth and earnestness in the student mind. Religion 
has become less a matter of verbal profession and formal 
worship than of eager aspiration, warm sympathy and 
practical helpfulness. Though the college output into 
the ministry has shrunk to small proportions, the number 
of college students and graduates enrolled in the wider 
ministry of everyday Christian life and service is probably 
quite as great proportionally as it has ever been. Critics 
who accuse the college of being essentially indifferent or 
hostile to religion, who regard it as a place where study 
and environment breed skeptics and atheists, do not un- 
derstand its real character. Its dominant forces are forces 
of faith and righteousness. It never has been and probably 

^ Of course this interest is in some cases superficial and transi- 
tory. The classes "peter out" under pressure of other college 
affairs. Yet the initial fact remains significant of respect for 
religion and a desire to become acquainted with the spirit and 
teachings of Christianity. 



COLLEGE RELIGION 201 

never can be completely or essentially secularized. The 
very seriousness of its educational purpose tends to give / 
it a religious atmosphere. Hence in the proper meaning of 
the term the college is still a religious institution. 

College Chapel 

The central feature of the religious life of the college 
is the chapel service. P'ew colleges fail to conduct re- 
ligious worship daily, and in most, with the exception of 
certain state universities, regular attendance is required. 
The character of the service varies widely, however. 
Sometimes it is almost ideal in reverence and beauty; 
sometimes it is utterly lacking in earnestness — a mere lit- 
urgical routine, spiritually defunct; and sometimes it is 
afflicted by expressions of indifference or contempt — from 
the visitors gallery one sees newspapers and notebooks, 
hears a steady buzz of whispered conversation, and feels 
the restless impatience with the mechanical ceremony. Of- 
ten the convenience of the gathering leads to the introduc- 
tion of non-religious matters, so that the solemnity of the 
occasion is lightened by humorous announcements, and the 
service of worship passes easily into a football rally. In 
all cases, however, chapel is the religious center of the col- 
lege; the daily worship is its "family prayers." 

The benefits of the chapel service are mainly two. In 
the first place it affords genuine spiritual help to many 
students. The quiet quarter hour at the beginning of the 
day^ the inspiration of song and prayer, the wisdom of a 
brief talk on the more serious aspects of college life, all 
this has a steadying power for one who puts himself within 
reach of it. Multitudes of students have testified that 
chapel seems "to begin the day right." The psychologist 
of religion knows that life needs some such periodical re- 
treat from its busy enterprises and nervous strain, some 
occasional moments of thoughtfulness about higher things. 
Communion with the realm of ideals brings steadiness of 
aim and an influx of strength, powers which are nowhere 
more needful than in college life. 

Second, the chapel has extraordinary social value. It 
calls the college family together and reminds the members 



202 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

' ^4iLv5Ss^^^&:t.: ^ -. .- .- . ,. ... ...... -^^. 

that they belong together. It produces that peculiar feel- 
ing of unity which is essential to college spirit. The words 
addressed to all alike_, the common participation in the 
form of worship_, even the mere physical proximity, serve to 
suppress differences of sentiment and to heighten the sense 
of brotherhood. From time immemorial groups of people 
in tribe_, household, village, and town have deepened their 
community of interest by making it religious; the common 
need has everywhere received expression in religious as- 
sembly. Accordingly we find the college authorities and 
the more thoughtful members of college communities almost 
uniformly of this opinion: the spiritual unity and welfare 
of the college depend in no small degree upon the daily 
chapel service. 

On the other hand chapel attendance is likely to prove 
inconvenient to many persons. When the bell rings there 
are often other things that call, seemingly more important 
or at least more inviting than the repetition of a per- 
fectly familiar form of service. Those last moments of 
preparation for a written exercise, for example, are so 
precious ! If the assembly precedes the day's business it 
may interfere with comfort in ways too obvious to need 
specification, and while some of these, such as the late 
breakfast, are hardly worth consideration, others like a 
settled habit of study or distance of residence should not 
be disregarded. The inconvenience to members of the 
faculty is clearly shown by their infrequent attendance 
except under compulsion; wherefore the student is likely 
to feel that his own inconvenience is equally genuine. 

But a more serious objection is that compulsory at- 
tendance is inconsistent with religious freedom and with 
the spirit of religion. How deeply this sentiment of lib- 
erty is ingrained in our national consciousness and indi- 
vidual thinking we all know. The imposition of religious 
worship upon those who are opposed or indijQPerent to it, 
or whose faith may practise another form of expression, 
seems radically wrong. College teachers as well as col- 
lege students are of this opinion, and in some instances 
the force of opposition has succeeded in abolishing the re- 
quirement. 



COLLEGE RELIGION SOS 

Voluntary chapel attendance^ however, can hardly be 
regarded as a successful solution of the problem. Under 
the most favorable conditions of brevity, beautiful music, 
and helpful addresses upon topics of student life, it fails 
to attract more than a fraction, sometimes an absurdly 
small fraction, of the student body. Competing interests 
exercise too strong a pressure. Even with appreciation 
and good intentions the line of least resistance is all too 
likely to lead elsewhere than to the chapel door. Gen- 
erally speaking, to remove the requirement is virtually to 
abolish chapel as a function of the whole college. 

The importance of this is that it signifies a loss of social 
unity. No other agency, such as college newspaper, oc- 
casional mass meetings, or athletic sports, serves as does 
the chapel service to sustain the common enthusiasm of 
college life. Students are often aware of this. At Yale 
the senior class has for several years voted annually in 
favor of compulsory attendance, and at Lehigh a brief ex- 
perience with "voluntary chapel" was terminated by a 
student petition for a restoration of the requirement. 

Yet the internal condition of many a college chapel ser- 
vice is so unsatisfactory as to demand change. What prin- 
ciples of improvement can we indicate.'* In answer the 
writer ventures to make three suggestions. First, if the 
service follows a routine liturgical form — which inevitably 
becomes perfunctory and monotonous — it should be vital- 
ized by short talks on points of college interest, problems 
of student life, more general matters of educational im- 
portance, and the like. These should come not only from 
president and dean, but from other members of the faculty, 
all of whom, by the way, should take pains to present what 
they have to say in five to ten minutes. Second, on one or 
more days of the week the religious service should be re- 
placed by a program devoted to secular interests, with ap- 
propriate speeches and the college songs. This would 
give these interests a forum such as they usually lack, 
and by leaving the chapel service distinctly religious it 
would prevent the painful descent from the Lord's Prayer 
to the college yell which sometimes characterizes college 
worship. Third, the matter of requiring attendance should 



204 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

be turned over to the students themselves. If they believe 
that the daily meeting is instrumental to the college wel- 
fare it is for them not only to come, but to see that others 
come. If it were understood that the college office in re- 
quiring attendance and the chapel leaders in conducting 
the service were simply the servants of the body politic, 
the spirit of the gathering would be changed. Resent- 
ment would be lessened, and offences would be dealt with 
as they deserved. 

In any case this fact should be taken to heart. The 
chapel service is organically a part of a well regulated 
college. It contains potentialities of much helpfulness in 
student life, individual and social. It will be just as 
valuable as those who participate in it choose to make it. 

The True Faith 

An almost inevitable consequence of experiencing the 
new conditions of college life is that the student suffers 
some change of religious sentiment or belief. One who 
comes from a pious home or from a church which imposes 
unquestioning acceptance of the literal word of religious 
tradition, finds that higher education presents a new view 
of the universe and of human duty. On the other hand, 
one who enters with indifference to religion may learn that 
as a scholar he cannot ignore its power in history and in 
contemporary life. So there comes a change of view, per- 
haps development and enrichment, perhaps doubt and loss 
of faith, in consequence of breathing the college atmos- 
phere. 

In some cases this change is profoundly painful. A 
state of doubt or disbelief sets in which reaches down into 
the depths of one's nature, and which brings with it tem- 
porary or permanent distress. Ordinarily this experience 
is transitory — a natural disturbance preceding a new equi- 
librium — but sometimes it is more lasting, and the man or 
woman walks through life in its shadow. Just because 
religion is so fundamental in our nature there is no strug- 
gle more intense and no depression more profound than 
that which takes place when old faith is shaken by new 
forces of education. 



COLLEGE RELIGION 205 

Those who best understand the conditions of college life 
know that its dominating influences do not make against 
religion, but rather for it. Yet it cannot be denied that 
certain almost universal factors tend to produce a radical 
disturbance and change. The most important of these 
factors are the new views, scientific, historical and philoso- 
phic, which college study impresses upon the student. A 
vastly larger universe spreads before him, a universe of 
long evolution according to natural laws, a universe in 
which God seems far away. The sense of personal rela- 
tion to a Heavenly Father fades into a cheerless feeling of 
being an infinitely insignificant cog in the universal mech- 
anism. Religion itself is seen to be a product of slow 
evolution, full of absurdities, superstition and cruelty; and 
many of its contemporary manifestations are obviously 
crude survivals of outgrown fear and fancy. If, as is too 
frequently the case, the student has come to college with- 
out a sound basis of religious instruction, or if he has 
brought with him ideas w^hich are hopelessly out of keeping 
with the assured results of modern study, he can hardly 
escape an internal struggle. In some instances it is true, 
however harsh the truth may sound, that he not only is 
shaken, but ought to be — until the nonsense and bigotry 
are shaken out of him. 

Together with this expansion of intellectual vision there 
comes an impression from the example of persons who are, 
or at least appear to be, non-religious. Some of these are 
highly educated associates, men of culture and charm; 
some are friendly fellow students, glib expounders of ir- 
religion. Polite atheism and agnosticism flourish in certain 
college precincts, and the newcomer is haunted by an un- 
comfortable suspicion that his former religious instructors 
were less trustworthy than he supposed — that they did not 
know so much as they pretended. Apparently life may 
be lived quite as happily, in fact rather more so, without 
religious professions. In some minds the feeling of cour- 
ageous rebellion against religious commands and prohibi- 
tions has its own peculiar agreeableness. 

Both of these factors may gain strength from the stu- 
dent's loss of practical connection with a church. Without 



206 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

the steadying power of religious associations, of worship 
and service, the problem becomes purely intellectual, and 
in this field often seems hopeless. 

What is the solution of the problem, the remedy for a 
condition so manifestly unsatisfactory? In so far as the 
difficulty is intellectual — and it usually is largely a matter 
of doubt, of uncertainty about principles of life, of dis- 
satisfaction with familiar creeds and inability to construct 
new ones — there is no remedy except that which essentially 
characterizes the college, namely study. As the trouble 
comes through the direct and indirect teaching provided 
by the institution, so it must be met. One who has lost 
his religious footing can regain it only by discovering the 
true nature of religion, its sound articles of belief, its 
place in history, its dynamic power in society, and its in- 
estimable value in personal life. If religion cannot demon- 
strate its truth and worth in this way it can hardly escape 
rejection by thinking people. The study may be pursued 
in college classes, or by private reading of wisely chosen 
books, or as conversation with friends, but the needful at- 
tainment in any case is a new and better view of the truth. 
Perhaps, indeed, the doubt is valuable just because it leads 
to a firmer assurance. 

Certainly the effort to reestablish oneself pays. There 
is no subject in the whole curriculum which better deserves 
study, or which rewards the student more bountifully, than 
religion. One who comes to understand it gains a new 
respect for it, a new assurance of faith, and a new convic- 
tion of the duty of mankind and his own duty. The serious 
effort to put oneself abreast of the best modern religious 
thought is sure to succeed, both in its acquisition of ideas 
and in its effect upon life.* 

At the same time there is vital need of practical ac- 
tivity as well as of intellectual study, of doing as well 
as of thinking. For this reason it is well to continue one's 
familiar practices of worship — there is no real insincerity 

*I believe that there is no subject better entitled to recognition 
as an indispensable part of a "liberal education" than the study 
of Christianity, its sources, origin and development, fundamental 
teachings and application to contemporary problems. 



COLLEGE RELIGION 207 

in such an act of faith, unless, of course, one has passed 
beyond doubt to a condition of positive disbelief — to con- 
tinue also the sane regulation of daily life, and especially 
to make an effort to help those who seem to need help 
wherever we find them. Religion consists essentially of a 
feeling of relation to a higher power which is the source 
of our common humanity, and of a constant effort to live 
according to this faith. It is desirable that the feeling 
should take an intelligent form — indeed it instinctively 
tends to assume this — but it is no less important that we 
should support the feeling, when new forces disturb it, 
by persisting in the right kind of conduct. With our 
modern psychological understanding of the matter we see 
that feeling and thought depend upon action quite as much 
as action follows from them. If college students would 
take part in some organized religious work such as is un- 
questionably worth doing in any case, there would be less 
inner disturbance and loss of faith. 

Nevertheless the problem of what to believe is one which 
demands solution, and there is peculiar strength and com- 
fort in the possession of a definite creed. What then shall 
we do if the ancient creeds seem unsatisfactory as ex- 
pressions of the religious hope and faith and determination 
of to-day? There is but one thing to do — make a new one, 
that is to say, make our own. A college education surely 
ought to enable us to state what we really believe, and to 
act out that belief in our life. If we desire a powerful 
revelation of truth this is more likely to come through our 
own thoughtful experience than through ideas imposed 
upon us by external authority or accepted by sheer force 
of will.^ So long as our creed represents our profoundest 
convictions, reached by earnest, careful thinking we need 
not worry about its discrepancies from more widely ac- 
cepted ones. 

Of course the fact that we have attained a view satis- 
factory to ourselves does not imply that we ought to impose 
it upon others. Our well meant missionary efforts often 

' For a statement of several modernized forms of creed see 
Hyde, The College Man and the College Woman, Chap. VIII, 
The Creed of a College Class. 



208 COLLEGE STUDY AND COLLEGE LIFE 

need stern self restraint. It is foolish to try to convert to 
our own way of thinking persons who have not followed or 
perhaps cannot follow our own way of study and reflection. 
In such cases it is usually best not to broach matters of 
religious doctrine at all. If they cannot or will not grasp 
new ideas thoughtfully, if they do not feel the problem as 
we feel it, they deserve to be left alone. Their own beliefs 
are probably better for them than a misunderstanding of 
ours. The possibility of a common Christian life, which 
after all is the most important part of religion, remains 
unaffected by differences of formal belief.® 

Religion, we should remember, is not so much a special 
department of life as a kind of glow and enthusiasm dif- 
fused over all life. Religion is faith and hope and love; 
religion is earnest, joyous service of our fellow men; re- 
ligion is a working conviction that the world is ruled by a 
power which makes for righteousness, which strengthens 
us in our living and which needs our help. To this view 
and practice of religion the American college is tending 
with ever increasing clearness and power. 

* Especially ought the student to refrain from introducing re- 
ligious disturbance into his family, not simply because it is unwise 
to attack the convictions of his elders, but also because it is better 
not to run the risk of shaking their faith in him. He can well 
afford simply to omit points of religious belief as subjects of con- 
versation. There are plenty of other topics to talk about, and after 
all their daily lives are probably quite as good as his own. 



APPENDIX A 

THE OFFER OF THE COLLEGE 

(HydC; The College Man and the College Woman, p. 3) 

"To be at home in all lands and all ages; to count Na- 
ture a familar acquaintance, and Art an intimate friend; 
to gain a standard for the appreciation of other men's 
work and the criticism of your own; to carry the keys of 
the world's library in your pocket, and feel its resources 
behind you in whatever task you undertake; to make hosts 
of friends among the men of your own age who are to be 
leaders in all walks of life; to lose yourself in generous 
enthusiasms and cooperate with others for common ends; 
to learn manners from students who are gentlemen, and 
form character under professors who are Christians, — this 
is the offer of the college for the best four years of your 
life." 



209 



APPENDIX B 

CHOOSING A VOCATION 

The problem of choosing a vocation depends so essen- 
tially upon circumstances and involves so many peculiarly 
individual factors that the considerations which can be 
briefly set down for the student's guidance are mostly of a 
common sense sort. The fact that common sense is not so 
commonly observed as might be, aff'ords a sufficient reason 
for mentioning a few points. 

Note first that the problem does not ordinarily solve 
itself unless you think about it. Such thinking ought not 
to be postponed until late in your course; it ought to be 
begun in your freshman year. "What am I good for.f* 
What would I like to do.^" — these are questions which 
should be faced early and frequently. Simply to drift 
along thoughtlessly with the expectation or hope that 
something will turn up, or that an easy berth will be opened 
through family influence, is to court failure. On the other 
hand thinking does not mean hasty decision. Generally 
speaking, a freshman has not seen enough of the world or 
of human aff'airs to settle the matter with assurance. One 
who decides prematurely may make a serious mistake, in 
the prosecution of which he may further blind himself to 
the liberal education given by the college. The decision 
should ripen through a longer period of thoughtfulness. 

There is perhaps a special danger of following the line 
of least resistance — further study in graduate or profes- 
sional school — not from a real desire to become a lawyer 
or teacher, but because this course postpones the day of 
actually going to work, and continues the easy going type 
of life which has proved so agreeable during the college 
years. What many a college graduate needs is to get into 
the actual struggle of life upon graduation. And with this 

210 



APPENDIX B 211 

warning goes another — against the seductiveness of the 
"black coated job/' You may need to go among men who 
do not wear black coats but who are really doing the 
world's work. Experience of this sort may be needed to 
bring out the power, the resourcefulness, the ingenuity, 
and, last but not least, the sympathy which is latent in 
you. Yet if you have thoughtfully settled upon some pro- 
fessional aim, give yourself the most thorough training 
you can afford. 

As far as possible, tentative proposals should be prac- 
tically tested. If journalism looks attractive visit a news- 
paper office; if medicine, a hospital. Mere contact may 
bring the thrill which indicates a natural bent. In many 
lines it is possible to get some small job which will serve 
to show what you have to expect as a life work. In any 
case get all the information and the concrete acquaintance 
you can. If you can find books or articles about vocations 
in which you are interested, read them. 

The professions of law and medicine are seriously over- 
crowded. In order to get a start in the first you may need 
influential connections; for the second, capital is almost 
indispensable. A large majority of lawyers work for a 
pittance or eke out their income in other ways. A majority 
of medical graduates never establish themselves in prac- 
tice. Ability and courage are likely to win, of course, but 
the hardships of poverty and obscurity are not to be mini- 
mized. Professional positions in the ministry and in teach- 
ing are more easily attained, but for the most part are 
grievously underpaid. Yet many teachers and ministers 
find the intimate, sympathetic, helpful personal relation- 
ships which their professions involve a compensation for 
deficiencies in other respects. 

Finally, the best promise lies in a readiness to do what- 
ever you can. to do anything which lies within your powers. 
The college course by its very breadth, serves to fit a man 
or woman in a general way for various occupations. The 
essential requisite, after all, is a desire to work. 



APPENDIX C 

TWO VOCATIONAL AIMS FOR COLLEGE STUDENTS 

There are two occupations into which many college 
graduates go, namely business and housekeeping. Higher 
education for these pursuits is possible and desirable, yet 
there are very few schools for the purpose. It is doubt- 
ful, indeed, whether advanced study for them should be 
confined to special schools; rather would it seem to be 
properly integrated with the college curriculum. If we 
believe that vocational and cultural training cannot be 
kept entirely apart, that cultural studies have vocational 
value and vocational studies cultural value; if we believe 
that general training for, as distinguished from particular 
training in, vocations is desirable — as it certainly is in- 
evitable — in the college; if we understand the aim of the 
college to be that of giving higher education, so far as it 
can, for a well rounded life, — then we may hope to see 
college men and women, with increasing numbers and 
seriousness, preparing themselves for these occupations. 

Already a large number of college graduates — in some 
institutions approaching fifty per cent. — enter some form 
of business. That some training for this is requisite fol- 
lows from the fact that there is much criticism of them. 
It is acknowledged that they ultimately develop more than 
average efficiency, that their intelligence and independence 
really count in the long run; but it is charged that they 
lack serious purpose and "business sense," and are slow 
in getting over their college habits. What is needed is not, 
of course, the arithmetic, stenography and typewriting of 
the "business college," but an intelligent view of the na- 
ture and functions of business and a method of work which 
can be applied to its problems. Cannot the college and 
the student cooperate in higher education which shall make 
participation in commercial life more directly effective.^ 

212 



APPENDIX C 21S 

As regards many of the points of criticism — e. g. de- 
fective spelling and hand writing, inability to dictate a 
coherent letter, lack of punctuality, lack of systematic 
method, unwillingness to submit to necessary routine, and 
so on — the general methods of the curriculum, if properly 
applied, will suffice. In respect to the content of study 
there is need of development of the history of commerce, 
of the systematic study of its forms, problems and re- 
sources, of its interrelations with political and other as- 
pects of modern civilization. •'^ It is of the first importance, 
also, that college men in business should have developed an 
idealism above the ordinary conception of "success." The 
desideratum is a point of view which regards business as 
instrumental to social welfare. It is interesting to think 
of the possible effect of an annual discharge into American 
business of a stream of active, clear minded young men 
anim-ated by a desire to improve the economic conditions 
of society as well as to make a living. Critics of vocational 
training in the college usually hold that the desired train- 
ing can be sufficiently acquired in actual business life. 
But in this matter no other agency compares with the col- 
lege, with its broad curriculum and atmosphere of studious 
idealism. If college graduates are to be the best business 
men the college must help to make them so. 

The college has a corresponding function with respect 
to women. Almost all will occupy positions which involve 
domestic management; married and unmarried alike will, 
in most cases, sooner or later direct a household. Further- 
more, the home life of the community should be of es- 
pecial interest to women, just as men should take interest 
in the commercial functions of society, whatever may be 
the extent of their direct participation in these. Accord- 

*"By sound methods he should investigate such subjects as 
these: the effects on business of gold and other standards of 
value; the effects of protective tariff and other tariffs; the re- 
sults on commerce of friendly and unfriendly foreign relations; 
the relation of trade to the flag; the results, immediate and 
ultimate, of subsidies, trusts and bounties; the possibilities of rail- 
way control; the methods of dignified and economical local gov- 
ernment; the question of municipal control; the meaning of civil 
service reform." Jordan, The Voice of the Scholar, p. 130. 



214 APPENDIX C 

ingly women should have the opportunity to study sanita- 
tion, hygiene, domestic architecture, the cost and scientific 
preparation of food, the manufacture of fabrics and cloth- 
ing, principles of decoration, and the like. It is the busi- 
ness of women to understand these subjects and to apply 
them in their own life. That they are instinctively in- 
clined to do so is made clear by the numbers which flock 
to departments of "domestic science" in state universities 
and in other colleges where the matter is competently pre- 
sented. No part of higher education is of greater promise 
for individual happiness and social welfare. The possible 
improvement of business by inoculating it with college 
idealism is not larger than the possible improvement of 
municipal cleanliness and health, of market honesty and 
household economy, by the attack of a scientifically en- 
lightened and determined body of women. Critics who 
think that such studies are beneath the dignity of the col- 
lege curriculum fail to see their scientific character, or 
the range of the problem with which they deal.^ 

These studies are primarily, but not exclusively, voca- 
tional. In so far as they contribute to an understanding 
of our civilization they are also comprehended in a truly 
broad conception of culture. Just as the study of educa- 
tion is of value not only for teachers, but for everyone, 
since everyone is indirectly interested in the educational 
currents of modern life, so it is with the study of business 
and household affairs. Our complex life brings us daily 
into situations where a proper understanding of these mat- 
ters is of importance. The college, therefore, as the special 
school of liberal education, should include the advanced 
study of them in its curriculum. 

2 Domestic science is establishing itself in the college curriculum, 
frequently against ignorant and determined opposition. The most 
common objection is that ordinary home training is adequate. It 
is a sad fact that it is not. The domestic incompetency of many 
college-bred women, otherwise highly educated and agreeably 
cultured, is the cause of much more trouble than comes to the 
public view. The difficulty of managing domestic service is in 
many cases due quite as much to the inefficiency of the employer 
as to that of the employed. Generally speaking, a superintend- 
ent needs to understand the practical technique of his business, 
however little he engages in it, 



APPENDIX D 

GENERAL READING 

What do college students read? In answer to this ques- 
tion we have the results of several investigations. College 
men commonly read the daily papers, paying more atten- 
tion to sporting news than to other occurrences or to edi- 
torial comment. They distinctly prefer good newspapers, 
and shun "yellow journalism." They also read the promi- 
nent weeklies with regular interest, and to a less extent 
the monthly magazines. College women devote less time 
to daily and weekly newspapers. Not many students of 
either sex read books, except an occasional work of fiction, 
in addition to textbook study and other required reading. 
In general it appears that volumes of essays, history, 
poetry and biography receive little attention outside of 
regular courses. 

It is asserted that college students read less serious 
literature than formerly; and it must be acknowledged 
that the increasing complexity of college life, with its en- 
grossing social interests, tends to prevent them from read- 
ing anything except what is required. I doubt, however, 
whether the change is quite as great as is supposed. When 
we consider the development which has taken place in the 
curriculum and note that what formerly belonged to gen- 
eral reading — necessarily so if read at all — now has a 
home in this or that course of study; when we remember 
that the curriculum now includes modern literature, psycho- 
logy, economics, and a dozen other subjects, some of 
which were almost unknown to the college student of a 
generation ago, we see that the decrease is more apparent 
than real. Broader requirements and improved library 
facilities have tended to increase the amount of "heavy" 
reading. Hence the inference that the diminution of gen- 

215 



216 APPENDIX D 

eral reading implies a lack of intellectual interests is un- 
certain.^ 

Yet we must acknowledge that there is too little general 
reading of a serious sort^ especially in view of the unques- 
tionable educational profit of such reading. Three con- 
siderations are important here. The first is that reading 
gives a broad acquaintance with life and culture, such as 
concentrated study cannot give. Of course mere bookish- 
ness in any form is undesirable, but as a means of infor- 
mation and as an adjunct of observation and reflection 
books are indispensable. The "well read" man has 
breadth of vision and of sympathy. Second, general read- 
ing creates a sound basis and background for more special- 
ized and systematic study. No particular subject of in- 
vestigation is complete in itself; every one has ramifica- 
tions which touch other parts of life and experience; and 
in consequence an understanding of the latter, even a gen- 
eral and superficial understanding, helps in the more spe- 
cial pursuit. Third, the habit of general reading needs 
to be cultivated as a means of intellectual recreation 
throughout later life. No other form of recreation can 
take the place of this, especially in the lives of those who 
are compelled to spend much time alone. There is noth- 
ing which is so easy of attainment and at the same time 
so effective in withdrawing the mind into restful and 
agreeable fields as a book. 

Yet the habit of general reading is not properly a sub- 
stitute for regular study. In rare cases, no doubt, it hap- 
pens that students graduate with only a distant acquaint- 
ance with the curriculum, but with an extraordinary breadth 
of information acquired in this way. In fact some great 

^The alleged change is probably exaggerated. Critics naturally 
recall for comparison their own more serious associations, which 
were perhaps somewhat exceptional. Furthermore, the casual 
smoke and table talk of a fraternity house in the presence of a 
visitor do not reliably indicate the intellectual atmosphere of 
the house itself, to say nothing of that of the college. The 
student who is independently digging into Carlyle, Browning, 
Emerson and others of like depth is inconspicuously buried in his 
study or in an alcove in the library. I suspect that he is more 
numerous than is commonly believed. 



APPENDIX D 217 

men have educated themselves by neglecting prescribed 
studies and devouring omnivorously all the books which 
interested them. The regular plan sometimes fails to meet 
the needs or accommodate itself to the special capabilities 
of the individual^ and when this occurs one may more 
successfully follow a path of his own choosing. As a 
rule, however, general reading is too desultory to take the 
place of systematic study. In contrast with the latter it 
lacks method and vigor. Its proper functions are recrea- 
tion, casual information, and a supplementary pursuit of 
specialized interests. 

The abundance of current literature which surrounds us 
raises for the general reader a special problem of selec- 
tion. We are newspaper-ridden, flooded with magazines, 
overwhelmed with books, and while most of this material 
is so inaccurate, repetitious and frivolous that it is not 
worth a glance, there is mixed with it a good deal of the 
best human thought and feeling. In consequence there is 
danger of waste of time and corruption of interest through 
inability to discriminate between the wheat and the chaff. 
How shall we select what is really worth reading .f* 

There is no universal rule, of course, but the following 
suggestions may prove helpful to one who is working out 
his own solution of the difficulty. First, as regards news- 
papers, it is worth while to spend fifteen or twenty minutes 
daily upon one which has an established reputation for 
excellent news service and editorial wisdom. Some of its 
items are merely interesting in themselves; others, such 
as facts of contemporary politics, government, war, crime 
and social movements of various kinds, help us to form 
sound o^Dinions about human life. It is necessary to skip 
almost everything with hardly a passing glance, but we 
are aided in this by news indexes, headlines, initial para- 
graphs, and editorial summaries. As a rule nothing is to 
be read through, — not even the sporting page! Our news- 
paper reading should be a daily exercise in sifting the 
wheat from the chaff, the events of real import from these 
that are trivial. Weekly newspapers and magazines de- 
serve more leisurely attention. Their content of carefully 
selected news and wise editorial comment is genuinely edu- 



218 APPENDIX D 

cational. Half a dozen of them might be named as our 
most reliable source of instruction with regard to current 
events; and the practice of reading one or two with regu- 
larity is more profitable than that of devoting the same 
amount of time to daily papers. 

The welter of monthly magazines in more or less glaring 
covers presents its own problem of selection, for while 
most of them contain nothing worth reading there are some 
which offer us excellent fiction and valuable articles, often 
the work of authorities and experts, upon various phases 
of contemporary life.^ The variety and compactness of 
their contents make them especially convenient for general 
reading, but this quality involves a subtle danger of over 
indulgence and loss of the power of sustained interest. 
Indeed the most serious criticism of magazine reading is 
that it tends to unfit us for reading in a steadily progres- 
sive way. We grow to look upon a book with impatience, 
and desire all our literature in the form of pills. Or, to 
change the figure, magazine reading is like giving a light 
tap to several nails instead of repeated blows to one; the 
result is that none of them is driven in far enough to stick. 
We finish the ten or twelve pages of an article quickly, 
turn to something else, and straightway forget. 

The "short story habit" is particularly to be avoided. 
The development of this type of fiction has become a posi- 
tive menace to the faculty of steady, sustained apprecia- 
tion. Its skillful holding of the attention, its addiction 
to dramatic, swiftly moving incident instead of the deeper 
currents of human nature, its very completeness in itself, 
tend to produce a corresponding mental attitude in the 
reader — a nervous attitude which hurries to the conclusion 
and becomes incapable of leisurely, thoughtful, character- 
building friendship with books. He glances and forgets, 
almost as he passes the multitude of faces in the street. 
The safest rule in dealing with magazines, and especially 
with magazine fiction, seems to be that of strictly limit- 
ing the time which one devotes to them. 

=* Professor WiHiam James once referred to three of them and 
a weekly newspaper as a "popular university" of instruction in 
human nature. See The Social Value of the College-Bred. 



APPENDIX D 219 

With respect to books the counsel of perfection that we 
read only the best fails to throw much light upon our 
difficulty. The mass of classical and contemporary litera- 
ture is so great, and the amount of the best is so far be- 
yond our powers, that the problem of selection remains. 
Choice may be facilitated, however, by the advice of a 
librarian or of instructors, by consulting book reviews in 
the newspapers and magazines, by reference to the stand- 
ard lists which books about libraries and reading often con- 
tain, and by taking advantage of the small "selected li- 
braries" which shrewd librarians sometimes obtrude upon 
the wayfarer's attention in the reading room. A list of 
"books which everyone should read" is likely to express 
only the personal taste of the compiler, a taste perhaps 
sound enough in itself, but not authoritative for others. 
With these more general aids the reader may safely be 
left to his own discoveries; in half an hour of browsing he 
will reach more good books than he has time to read. 

The use of selected libraries shows a predominant fond- 
ness for fiction and a relative neglect of history, biography, 
poetry and travel. A modern novel, in fact, receives for a 
while almost incessant reading. Unfortunately this sort 
of well written, superficially interesting story weakens the 
power of voluntary attention without oifering any con- 
siderable revelation of life; the tale is simply fascinating, 
rapidly skimmed, and instantly forgotten. In contrast, the 
journey of the explorer, the development of a people or of 
an individual, and the delicate expression of feeling in 
verse are likely to seem dull and tedious. Yet the pleas- 
urable habit of more solid general reading is not difficult 
to acquire, especially if we take pains to keep a good book 
within easy reach, and to pick it up frequently. And there 
can be no doubt as to which kind of literature produces 
the more lasting satisfaction. The latter lives, the current 
fiction dies, and it is much the same with their respective 
effects upon us. 

A final rule for the general reader is that of reading 
thoughtfully. This does not necessarily mean slowly. 
General reading ought of course to be much more rapid 
than the study of a textbook. But it is possible to ac- 



220 APPENDIX D 

quire a speedy habit of picking out important ideas, com- 
paring and criticizing, with the result that the substance 
of what is read enters by the process of mental digestion 
into the permanent structure of the mind. On the other 
hand we now and then find readers devouring immense 
quantities of literature and deriving little or nothing from 
it — no subjects of conversation, no useful information, no 
power of thought. Such reading is simply their way of 
wasting time, A good test of our skill and of the value 
of what we read is that of questioning ourselves about sig- 
nificant points. Even our recreational reading of fiction 
ought as a rule to give us a more reflective understanding 
of human nature; it is often worth while to dwell in re- 
trospect upon the story which we have just finished. When 
we find ourselves so weary of mind that we lose our 
thoughtful grasp and the sentences become more or less 
meaningless strings of words, when we impatiently hurry 
to the end without caring about what we pass, it is time to 
stop. The two main requirements of general reading are 
that it should make our leisure thoughtful and enjoyable. 



APPENDIX E 

(From a card of advice to students in the library of 
Brown University:) 

"Every student who aspires to culture should have read 
before graduation as many as possible of the chief mas- 
terpieces of the world's literature. The following are of- 
fered as a selection: 

Bible: Job; Psalms; Isaiah^ 40-66; Mark; Apocalypse. 
Homer: Iliad; Odyssey. 
Aeschylus : Dramas. 
Sophocles : Dramas. 
Euripides: Selected Dramas. 
Aristophanes : Comedies. 
Plato: Selected Dialogues. 
Demosthenes : Orations. 
Vergil: Aeneid 
Cicero: Orations; Selections. 
Horace: Poems. 
Plutarch: Selected Lives 
Marcus Aurelius: Meditations. 
Arabian Nights. 
Beowulf. 
Nibelungenlied. 
Song of Roland. 

Omar Khayyam: Rubaiyat^ translated by FitzGerald. 
Dante: Divine Comedy. 
Chancer: Canterbury Tales. 
Montaigne: Essays. 
Cervantes: Don Quixote. 
Spenser: Faerie Queene. 
Bacon: Essays. 
Shakespeare: Dramas; Poems. 

221 



222 APPENDIX E 

Milton : Poems. 

Moliere: Selected Dramas. 

Bunyan: Pilgrim's Progress. 

Defoe: Robinson Crusoe; Selections. 

Swift: Gulliver's Travels; Selections. 

Fielding: Tom Jones. 

Goldsmith: Vicar of Wakefield; Plays; Poems. 

Burke : Speeches. 

Goethe: Faust; Hermann and Dorothea; Selections. 

Schiller: Dramas; Poems. 

Wordsworth: Selected Poems. 

Scott: Novels; Selected Poems. 

Lamb: Essays. 

Webster : Speeches. 

Byron: Childe Harold; Selected Poems, 

Shelley: Selected Poems. 

Keats : Poems. 

Carlyle: French Revolution; Sartor Resartus; Selections. 

Macaulay: History of England; Essays. 

Hugo: Les Miserables; Selections. 

Emerson: Essays; Poems. 

Hawthorne: Novels and Tales. 

Poe: Poems; Selected Tales. 

Tennyson: Selected Poems. 

Thackeray: Novels. 

Dickens: Novels. 

Browning: Selected Poems. 

Thoreau: Week; Cape Cod; Walden. 

Lowell: Biglow Papers; Selected Poems and Essays. 

Arnold: Poems; Essays. 

Ibsen: Dramas. 

Tolstoi: War and Peace; Anna Karenina; Selections. 

Swinburne: Selected Poems. 



APPENDIX F 

CONSTITUTION OF THE STUDENT COUNCIL OF X COLLEGE 

ARTICLE I 

There is hereby constituted a Council to be known as 
the Student Council of X College. 

ARTICLE II 

The object of this Council shall be: 

Section I — To furnish a representative body of students 
who, by virtue of their position and influence in stu- 
dent aiFairs, shall be able to express the opinion and 
wishes of the undergraduates. 

Section II — To encourage student activities, to make regu- 
lations for the conduct and control of the same, and 
to decide matters of difference between student or- 
ganizations, in so far as the exercise of these func- 
tions does not conflict with College legislation. 

Section III — To provide a suitable medium through which 
student opinion may be presented to the College au- 
thorities. 

ARTICLE III 

Section I — The Council shall consist of six regular mem- 
bers and two advisory members. 
Section II — The term of office shall be one year. 

ARTICLE IV 

Section I — To be eligible for regular membership a stu- 
dent shall have spent five semesters in X College, 

or its equivalent in other collegiate institutions. 
223 



224 APPENDIX F 

Section II — To be eligible for advisory membership a stu- 
dent shall have spent three semesters in X College, 

its equivalent in other collegiate institutions. 

Section III — To be eligible for either regular or advisory 
membership a student shall be in good college stand- 
ing, i.e., not in arrears of college requirements of 
scholarship or under college discipline. 

ARTICLE V 

Section I — Six weeks before the end of the academic year 
the Council as a nominating committee shall submit 
to the Student Body the names of twelve students 
eligible for regular membership and the names of four 
students eligible for advisory membership. 

Section II — Upon petition signed by twenty per cent, of 
the Student Body and presented within ten days after 
the publication of the list of Council nominees the 
Council shall add to the list the name or names in- 
dicated in the petition. 

ARTICLE VI 

Section I — The names included in the list of nominees 
shall be voted upon by the Student Body in an elec- 
tion held three weeks before the end of the academic 
year. 

Section II — The new Council shall take office on Com- 
mencement Day following its election. 

Section III — The Council shall have the power to fill any 
vacancy arising in its membership between elections. 

ARTICLE VII 

Section I — The officers of the Council shall be a Presi- 
dent, Vice-President, and Secretary-Treasurer. 

Section II — The officers of the Council shall be elected 
by a majority vote of the Council at its first meeting. 

Section III — The President, in addition to the regular 
duties of that office, shall preside over the meetings 
pf the Student Body. 



APPENDIX F 225 

Section IV — The Secretary-Treasurer, in addition to the 
regular duties of that office, shall have in charge the 
minutes and funds of the Student Body. 

ARTICLE VIII 

The Council shall have the right to confer with the Ad- 
ministration of the College on matters of peculiar interest 
and importance to the Student Body. 

ARTICLE IX 

Section I — The Council shall have the power to make such 
legislation of student conduct and control of student 
activities as is, in its judgment, for the welfare of 
the College. 

Section II — Upon petition of twenty per cent, of the Stu- 
dent Body any legislation passed by the Council shall 
be submitted to the Student Body for acceptance or 
rejection. 

Section III — Upon petition of twenty per cent, of the 
Student Body the Council shall submit to the Student 
Body for acceptance or rejection any proposed legis- 
lation set forth in the petition. 

ARTICLE X 

The Council shall have the authority, and it shall be 
its duty to take into consideration, on its own motion or 
on charges preferred, the conduct of any student or body 
of students which may seem detrimental to the welfare of 
the College; and having conducted an investigation shall 
itself take, or where necessary recommend to the proper 
authorities such action as it deems just and reasonable in 
order that such conduct may be properly punished and any 
repetition of it prevented. 

ARTICLE XI 

This Constitution may be amended by a two-thirds vote 
of the Student Body. An amendment may be proposed by 
a majority of the Council or by one-third of the Student 
Body. Such amendment shall be posted not less than ten 
days before being voted on by the Student Body. 



APPENDIX G 

THE CREED OF A COLLEGE CLASS 

(Hyde, The College Man and the College Woman, pp. 
173, 174) 

"I believe in one God, present in nature as law, in 
science as truth, in art as beauty, in history as justice, in 
society as sympathy, in conscience as duty, and supremely 
in Christ as our highest ideal. 

I believe in the Bible as the expression of God's will 
through man; in prayer as the devotion of Man's will to 
God; and in the church as the fellowship of those who 
try to do God's will in the world. 

I believe in worship as the highest inspiration to work; 
in sacrifice as the price we must pay to make right what 
is wrong; in salvation as growth out of selfishness into ser- 
vice; in eternal life as the survival of what loves and is 
lovable in each individual; and in judgment as the obvious 
fact that the condition of the gentle, the generous, the 
modest, the pure, and the true is always and everywhere 
preferable to that of the cruel, the sensual, the mean, the 
proud, and the false." 



226 



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